


Burn This City Down (show you the light) or A Little Less 'Night of the Living Dead,' A Little More Bite Me

by Rei Kinneas (beatperfume)



Category: Bandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - A Little Less Sixteen Candles (Music Video), Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-21
Updated: 2010-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatperfume/pseuds/Rei%20Kinneas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon knows a lot of things about Ryan Ross. What Brendon doesn't know is why he can't stay away from the boy.</p><p>16 Candles-verse AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by darksylvia who is wonderful and amazing. Many thanks to [info]xnotalovesong who has been enthusiastically encouraging this story since the very beginning.

Brendon knows a lot of things about Ryan Ross.

Ryan Ross comes from Las Vegas. Ryan is nineteen years old, and he is a sophomore at the University. Ryan is on scholarship and his major is creative writing. Ryan likes playing guitar, post modern literature, and dogs.

Brendon knows these things because anyone with a computer and a basic understanding of google can know these things. Unlike some vampires, Brendon does not scoff at the uses of technology.

Ryan Ross has a dead alcoholic father, a mother he doesn't talk to, and no siblings. Ryan lost his virginity to a girl named Suzanne who later cheated on him. Ryan has a clever way with words, and an impressively tortured soul for one so young.

Brendon knows these things because he crept into Ryan's dorm room one night while he was out and read his journal.

Brendon knows a lot of things about Ryan Ross.

What Brendon doesn't know is why he can't stay away from the boy.

***

Ryan likes to go to shows in dingy clubs and Brendon likes to follow him.

Like most of the kids here, Ryan is dressed in tight jeans and a tiny t-shirt, hair falling into his eyes, but Brendon has no trouble keeping an eye on him as he moves through the crowd. Brendon's own crisply pressed shirt and perfectly tied tie get a few odd looks, and one or two appreciative glances. He ignores both.

Ryan is here because he's a fan of Fall Out Boy. Brendon, at least, can see the humor in this situation.

Ryan buys a drink (soda, not alcohol, Brendon knows) and greets people he knows. Pete and his little band of hunters aren't on yet, so Brendon finds a corner with a good view, tips his hat low over one eye, and watches. Maybe soon he'll make contact, but for now he's content to watch. To savor the sight of Ryan and the possibilities he holds.

In all of the 120 years of Brendon's life (or unlife, really) he's never fixated on a human. Humans are for eating, and he's never understood the little obsessions of other vampires, despite being witness to many. (Peter Wentz was, in fact, only the latest and most disasterous of William's obsessions. Before Peter it was Thomas, and before that, Gabriel, and before that, and before that ... and before that, Brendon.)

But over the past three weeks, he's found himself unable to stop thinking about Ryan. Ryan has been on his mind while he sleeps, hunts, feeds. He'll admit it. He's fascinated. He wonders if it comes to this for all vampires; seeking out humans, not to feed on their blood, but their vitality. The kind of vitality that comes only from being alive the way humans are. A way vampires have lost.

Brendon is startled out of his thoughts by a rough hand on his shirt pulling him out a side door and pushing him against the side of the building.

"What are you doing here?" Pete growls.

Brendon smirks. "None of your business."

Pete growls again and pushes Brendon harder against the rough brick. Brendon could break away, but he didn't come here for a fight.

"Leave me alone," Pete says.

Brendon raises an eyebrow. "Who said anything about being here for you?"

Pete's face registers surprise and his grip loosens. Brendon shrugs out of the hold and smoothes his shirt back down.

"What are you doing here then?" Pete asks. He's suspicious now, but Brendon isn't worried.

"I told you, it's none of your business." Brendon reaches down and retrieves his hat from where it's fallen. He brushes a smudge off before putting it back on. "I'm leaving you and yours alone. Extend me the same courtesy and we can avoid bloodshed for tonight. Go play your music, Wentz." He slips back through the door before Pete can say anything else, settles himself in his corner, and finds Ryan again.

The irony is that three weeks ago, Brendon _did_ come here just because he was bored and wanted to play a little with Pete. Pete riles so easily. It's very amusing. And then he'd seen Ryan. Ryan, in his tight jeans and pink t-shirt, bouncing to the music and singing along. He'd forgotten all about Pete Wentz.

Pete might appreciate it, if he knew.

Brendon leaves before Fall Out Boy's set is done because he doesn't fancy dealing with all four of them. He stays close though, hiding in the shadows of the alley across the street. A couple hours later Ryan walks out. Brendon follows.

Brendon could take him now. Just slip up behind him and sink his teeth into Ryan's throat, and the only thing Ryan would know was the sweet pain of his death. But Brendon won't. It would be so unsatisfying. When Brendon does take Ryan, and he will, eventually, he wants Ryan to be looking him in the eye.

He wants Ryan to beg for it.

He watches Ryan undress for bed from outside his dorm window. He watches Ryan check his email, update his blog, and read a few chapters of his book. After Ryan turns out the light Brendon waits until Ryan's breath evens and his heartbeat slows, then climbs silently through the window, so he can watch Ryan sleep from up close.

***

The Dandies' home and headquarters is an old hotel in a once opulent neighborhood gone to seed. The facade of the building has lost a lot of its former shine, but that only helps keep curious eyes away. Inside, it's as grand as ever. William wouldn't have it any other way.

Brendon returns two hours before dawn and knows as soon as he walks into the lobby that something is not right. It's too quiet for this hour of the night and the tension is so thick he can almost see it.

He finds Andrew sprawled on one of the sofas. He looks as if he's trying to relax, but his muscles are tense and his eyebrows are drawn in.

"What's going on?" Brendon asks, taking the chair opposite.

"Travis is here," Andrew says, his voice carefully neutral.

"Fuck," Brendon says.

In the months since the riot there's been an uneasy truce between the gangs. Everyone stays in their own territory, and no one tries to kill each other too much. Travis being here is a blatant disregard of the unspoken terms. Things are about to get very messy, Brendon thinks, or very fun. Perhaps both.

"How long?" Brendon asks.

"Hours," Andrew says.

Brendon nods, but says nothing. He sits with Andrew for a long time. Until the sun is nearly up and there's no way that Travis will be able to get back to his part of the city before it rises. Which means he's staying here for the day.

Brendon retreats to his suite and undresses. He gets into bed and pulls the curtains tight. He doesn't like the thought of sleeping with the leader of a rival gang somewhere nearby, and he lays down full of uneasiness.

But as the sun rises he falls asleep thinking of Ryan.

***

By the time Brendon dresses the next night Travis is already gone and William is looking both smug and thoughtful. Brendon stifles the urge to go find Ryan (he has evening class, then he'll probably be at the coffee shop until it closes) and instead goes out on the hunt with Mike and the others. They're all worried about Travis, even Mike, who probably knows more than any of them.

They hunt viciously.

On the way back Brendon finds a girl - she's maybe seventeen at most - and twists her mind so that she follows them, glassy eyed and docile, back to the hotel. He presents her to William with a bow and a flourish and William is delighted.

"What an exquisite present," William purrs, and strokes Brendon's neck. "A stunning piece of mesmerism, Brendon. Just look at her, so calmly waiting to die. Beautiful."

Brendon sleeps easier that day, but he wakes to find he's dreamed of Ryan, and he's dressed and on his way to campus before most of the other Dandies are out of their rooms.

***

The next week Travis is back at the hotel and Ryan starts dating a girl named Jac.

According to Ryan's blog they're "just hanging out," but Brendon's been around Ryan's scene long enough to know what that means. Brendon slams his laptop shut and stalks out of the hotel without bothering to tell anyone sitting in the lobby where he's going.

The coffee shop isn't crowded. It would be impossible to go unnoticed so Brendon lurks out front and watches through the window.

The girl is pretty enough, Brendon supposes, with a long fall of blonde hair and bright eyes. She and Ryan are pressed close together on one of the battered couches, books spread in front of them, ignored. Ryan tilts his head and smiles shyly at her. She laughs and brushes Ryan's hand with her own. Brendon's lips pull back into a snarl. He wants to rip that hand clean off her arm.

When Jac leaves she presses her lips to Ryan's and Brendon sees red.

Instead of waiting for Ryan, he follows Jac. He closes in on her a few blocks from the coffee shop, tugs her into an alley and shoves her against the wall. He has one brief, beautiful look at her terrified face before she opens her mouth to scream and he takes control of her mind ungently, without any of his usual finesse.

"Shut up," he says, and she closes her mouth. Her face goes blank and her eyes follow Brendon's movements without comprehension. Brendon leans in to run his tongue along the smooth skin of her throat. He can smell perfume and Ryan. He opens his mouth over her pulse, can feel her blood pounding and moving. He wonders if it too will smell like Ryan. His canines press against the artery, just about to break the skin -- and he wrenches his head backwards.

"Go home," he hisses. "You won't remember this in the morning."

He's a block away before she takes a step, so angry he's shaking with it. He needs to kill something. Now.

He's near the edge of Dandy territory when he sees the Punk feeding off a middle aged woman.

That's good enough.

He pulls the Punk away from the woman by his hair and she drops to the ground, forgotten. It's a dirty fight. It always is, with Punks. But Brendon has all the force of his rage behind him and the other vampire doesn't stand a chance.

When it's over his clothes are torn and bloody. His hat's been lost and his hair is a mess. He doesn't care.

He goes back to campus. Ryan is asleep and Brendon leans close over his bed, inhaling his scent. Ryan must have taken a shower when he got back because the scent of Jac is gone and Brendon can only smell soap and Ryan. Good.

He imagines doing it right now. Erasing all thoughts of Jac from Ryan's mind. Making sure that Brendon is the only thing Ryan will think about until the end of his life.

But no.

Instead he tears a page from one of Ryan's notebooks, pricks his thumb with his teeth, and smears it on the page. He licks his wound closed and leaves the paper on Ryan's desk next to his laptop.

***

Brendon resolves to stay away from Ryan. To forget about him.

He lasts about four days.

He sits on Ryan's desk to watch him sleep and rifles through his notebooks to find out what he's missed. He finds it in Ryan's journal, tucked between the pages - a folded up piece of notebook paper with Brendon's blood on it.

There was nothing about it in either of Ryan's journals, but he didn't throw it away. Brendon doesn't know what that means.

Without giving himself time to think, Brendon flips to the end of Ryan's last entry. He cuts his fingers and lets three drops of blood fall on the page. He blows them dry, then takes Ryan's pen and writes beneath them, _you are a getaway car, a rush of blood to the head._ He laughs softly to himself imagining Pete's face if he knew.

He looks at the page, Ryan's scrawl and Brendon's old fashioned cursive separated by dark red blood. He likes it. He closes the journal and puts it back where he found it before he leaves.

***

"You've been distracted," Mike says. Tonight they're strolling casually, safe in their own territory, taking their time in choosing their meal. This is the first time Mike has mentioned Brendon's dishevelment the other night. Brendon is surprised it's taken this long. He waits for Mike to go on. There's nothing to say to his statement. Mike is right, and he would know if Brendon tried to lie about it.

"I don't know what it's about," Mike says, "and I don't care. Things are starting to happen. We need you 100%."

This is probably about Travis. Mike is the only one who has been with William longer than Brendon. If anyone would know, it would be Mike.

A woman in a short business skirt catches Mike's eye.

"I'll deal with it," Brendon says. Mike flashes him a smile that's more of a snarl and starts off after his prey.

***

Brendon chooses his night carefully. He wants to do it at the club, but he doesn't want Pete and his brats interfering. He dresses carefully, making sure the knot in his tie is perfect and his coat hangs neatly. He smiles at the blank space in the mirror, puts on his hat, and strolls out of the hotel.

No more distractions.

Brendon's tired of it. Tired of his thoughts not being his own. Tired of having his head full of some human. Ryan's been a very amusing distraction, but now it's time to end.

Ryan is already at the club when Brendon arrives, leaning against a wall and talking to three or four people. Brendon forgoes his usual spot in the corner and saunters up to the bar. No more hiding.

Brendon orders Red Bull. Some vampires like wine, some like tea, but Brendon likes his non-blood beverages fizzy and caffeinated. He likes the way it increases the rush when he feeds.

He doesn't bother being discreet about watching Ryan. When the kids who were talking to him leave, Brendon moves in. Ryan's wearing a v-neck t-shirt that's lost some of it's elasticity. It looks like someone's been pulling on it, and it exposes his left collarbone. It emphasizes his long throat and Brendon's mouth begins to water.

Ryan notices him when he's a few feet away. Brendon holds his gaze as he closes the distance between them.

"Come with me," Brendon says as he reaches out with his mind -- and finds himself blocked.

"Dude," Ryan says, "is that the best line you've got?"

Brendon reaches out again, more forcefully this time, but his power slips off the edge of Ryan's mind. He can't get in.

"Are you okay?" Ryan says.

Brendon refocuses on the boy in front of him. One thumb is hooked into his belt loop. The corners of his mouth are curled up into a slight smirk.

Ryan says, "Oh hey, that's a really cool coat."

Brendon flees.

***

Brendon is crouched in front of William's door when William returns from hunting.

"What is it Brendon?" He sounds concerned. For William.

"I-" Brendon says, and stops, unsure of how to explain. It's a rare thing for Brendon to be at a loss for words. Rare enough that William frowns and says, "Come in."

He sits Brendon down and makes tea. Usually, this ritual calms Brendon. It reminds him of his first few years as a vampire, when he was in William's bed every day, and every night they would hunt together, and afterwards William would make them tea.

But nothing will calm Brendon tonight. He can still see his hands shaking.

William sets the tray down and hands Brendon a cup. "Now tell me what the problem is."

"There's a boy," Brendon starts. William's expression turns amused and indulgent.

"A boy, Brendon? A human?"

"Yes, but." Any other time Brendon might feel embarrassed or chagrined; he'd always laughed at the others when they fixated on humans. "My mind control," he finally blurts out. "It doesn't work on him. Have you ever heard of our powers just not working on a human?"

"No," William says, and he's intrigued now. "Who is this boy?"

"No one," Brendon says defensively. "A college student." It's not that he doesn't trust William, exactly, but he doesn't want to give William any information about Ryan that he doesn't need. When William focuses on someone he's possessive, and Ryan is Brendon's.

"And you're sure he's ... immune?" William asks.

Brendon nods. "I could feel his mind there, I just couldn't get in."

"That is fascinating," William says. And disturbing, Brendon wants to add, but he doesn't. He picks up his tea cup, and his hands are only shaking a little bit now. William notices.

"Come here." He pats the couch beside him and puts his cup down. Brendon obediently climbs onto the couch and rests his head in William's lap. "I can't even imagine," William says as he pets Brendon's hair. "It must have been so startling. Frightening. Did you kill him?"

"No," Brendon murmurs. "I was going to but ..."

"It's okay," William says. "It's for the best. We want to keep this one alive. Find out why he's immune to your power, and if he's immune to everyone's power. He could be an asset."

Brendon nods even though he's uncomfortable - an uneasiness he cannot place.

"The sun is almost up," William remarks. "Come. You'll sleep with me today."

Every bit of unease leave Brendon immediately. It's been a long time since he's slept with William.

"Thank you," he says gratefully, and follows William to the bedroom.

***

Now that he has William's permission, he can spend more time watching Ryan. He gets puzzled looks from the others when he goes out without them - especially Mike. But William must have said something to him, because he keeps quiet.

Brendon waits for Ryan's evening class to get out, then follows him. He tries again and again to get into Ryan's mind, and slips off every time.

Ryan doesn't notice.

Ryan and Jac have been spending a lot more time together. It takes more willpower than Brendon knew he had not to tear out her throat every time he sees them together. He doesn't know what, exactly, he has planned for Ryan, yet, but he has a feeling that killing Ryan's girlfriend will not make him more cooperative.

He checks Ryan's blog fanatically, but there's no mention of Brendon's notes. He does find a mention of himself in Ryan's journal, but it's not about the notes. It's about their encounter in the club. 'He was hot,' Ryan wrote, 'but really weird. Darren said he's seen him around a few times. I wonder if he'll come back.'

If Brendon's heart beat it would be pounding. Brendon had idly considered having sex with Ryan before he killed him - biting him right as orgasm hit and draining him while still inside - but now he really thinks about it. Thinks about it, not as a prelude to Ryan's death, but as a goal in and of itself. He thinks about Ryan's lips wrapped around his cock, about holding Ryan's hips in his hands, about kissing Ryan and nicking his tongue with his teeth, licking up a few drops of blood, but keeping Ryan alive to do it all over again. Brendon thinks about it and his skin tingles like he just drank two Red Bulls and a pint of blood.

He tears a page from the back of Ryan's journal. He bites down on his bottom lip, waits a few seconds for the blood to well up, then presses it to the page. With Ryan's pen he writes, _i'll be your best kept secret and you biggest mistake._ He folds it up and sticks it half under Ryan's pillow.

Ryan sleeps on, undisturbed.

***

Brendon is, admittedly, out of practice in dealing with humans. It's been more than a lifetime since he himself was human, and until Ryan his only interactions with them were taking over their minds and then killing them. As far as Brendon was concerned, humans were food and only food.

Until Ryan.

Even so, Brendon is fairly certain Ryan is abnormal for a human.

Surely any other human, after receiving three notes with blood on them, notes left inside his room, obviously while he was sleeping, would do something about it. Call the police, or campus security. Surely any other human would be nervous or scared.

But Ryan doesn't. He isn't. He still leaves his window unlocked. Still walks alone after dark. As far as Brendon can tell, he hasn't told anyone.

Brendon finds the third note tucked into Ryan's journal with the first.

Brendon is starting to realize that immunity to his power is not the only perplexing thing about Ryan Ross.

***

Brendon is getting bored so he decides it's time to move forward with his plan.

He follows Ryan and Jac to the club. He watches them socialize, hands clasped, hips practically glued together. They look like the perfect couple. Brendon stops himself from grinding his teeth.

Brendon stands at the bar and waits for Ryan to notice him. When he does, his eyes widen slightly and his mouth parts. He quickly turns his head back to his girlfriend, but he keeps sneaking glances at the bar. Brendon pretends not to notice.

Half an hour later, Ryan unsticks himself from Jac and heads in Brendon's direction. Brendon slips into the crowd. He watches Ryan order drinks and look up and down the bar. Brendon leaves the club smiling.

A week later Ryan and Jac have a fight and Ryan goes to the club alone. Brendon can't believe his good luck.

Ryan immediately joins the dancers in the pit and loses himself in the mass of writhing bodies. Brendon doesn't have to be careful about watching him, because Ryan isn't aware of anything outside of himself and the music. He's beautiful.

When Ryan finally emerges, Brendon lounges against the bar and pretends not to see him. He knows when Ryan notices him. Sees Ryan pause for just a second before taking another sip of his water. Brendon takes a sip of his own drink and does his best to imitate William and project an air of being magnificently unconcerned.

After a few minutes of hesitation, Ryan moves over to the vacant seat Brendon made sure to stand next to.

"Have you managed to think of any better pick up lines?" Ryan asks. To humans, his tone of voice might say he couldn't care less, but Brendon is not human. He can hear the undercurrent of interest.

Brendon finally looks Ryan in the eye. He lets the corner of his lip turn up slightly. "I don't usually need to," he says. Ryan's breath hitches slightly, almost silently, then goes back to normal.

"You give up easy when you don't get your way," Ryan says. He has both arms crossed on the bar, leaning forward, but his hips are slightly tilted towards Brendon.

Brendon tries to tone down the smug in his voice when he replies, "Who says I've given up?"

Ryan's look of shock is entirely satisfying.

Brendon finishes his drink and straightens. "Later," he promises, and leaves.

***

Brendon will be the first to admit that he's not the best planner in the world. He doesn't so much plan as follow his every whim. It was the same when he was a child, and becoming a vampire only made it worse. It has gotten him into trouble with William and Mike more than once. Those two are the planners. Brendon just likes being well-fed, looking good, and having fun.

His current plan isn't really a 'plan' to much as it's a 'goal.'

On the other hand, it's also the first goal he's had in over a hundred years that has nothing to do with feeding, clothing, or his status in the Dandies. Nonetheless, he's surprised when things keep going his way. When advantages keep falling into his lap.

It doesn't seem like an advantage when Ryan first gets the flu.

Brendon knows that humans are fragile. He knows how easily their bones will break and their skin will tear. But it really does startle him to see the effect of something so tiny as a virus can have. He remembers, vaguely, that one of his sisters had taken ill with influenza, back when he was a human. He hasn't thought of his sisters in a long time.

Ryan is coughing and feverish, and he spends most of his time hovering between sleeping and waking, alternately covering himself in blankets and kicking them off. Ryan's roommate is a solid boy named Brent, and he keeps Ryan supplied with bottles of orange juice and water, then goes to sleep in his girlfriend's room.

Jac comes over with chicken soup and tea and stays until Ryan falls asleep again. On a whim, Brendon follows her home.

When he hears the shower start he lets himself into her apartment. There are a lot of pictures of Jac and her roommate around, mostly taken by themselves, it looks like. There are pictures of people and bands and landscapes, taken by Jac. Brendon's seen her carrying various cameras around.

He doesn't spend much time in the common areas; he goes straight to Jac's room. She doesn't have a journal for Brendon to read, but he goes through the rest of her things, unsure of what he's looking for. The whole room smells overwhelmingly of Jac - a smell that has Brendon curling his lip into a reflexive snarl - but here and there he catches the scent of Ryan, and one that's probably her roommate, and various others Brendon can't identify.

There are several cameras sitting on Jac's desk. Brendon picks up a small digital and turns it on. Jac has a full length mirror with pictures taped to the edges and scarves draped over the top. Brendon stands in front of it and aims the camera. He pouts at the blank spot in front of him and takes the picture.

The screen shows the mirror, a camera floating in mid-air, and the glare of a flash. Brendon's finger hovers over the delete button, then moves away. He turns the camera off and puts it back on the desk.

When he hears the shower shut off he slips out her window. Jac gets dressed and does her hair and her makeup. She packs a small bag and leaves. She only walks a few blocks to a townhouse divided up into apartments. A boy Brendon doesn't recognize opens the door.

Through the window he watches Jac kiss the boy, his arms around her waist, her tongue in his mouth.

Brendon smiles.

***

The only problem is that Brendon can't actually tell Ryan that Jac is cheating on him. Ryan wouldn't believe him if he tried to tell Ryan to his face. There would also be unfortunate questions like, 'how do you know?' and 'why were you following my girlfriend?' the answers to which Ryan wouldn't like. An anonymous note saying 'your girlfriend is cheating on you, just trust me on this one!' lacks credibility; Ryan would probably laugh at it.

In the end, Brendon decides to trust in the stupidity of the young and human. Brendon doesn't believe Jac will be able to keep her secret for long. He just hopes he's there when Ryan finds out. He wants to see her face.

In the meantime, it's time to leave another note. Ryan is now well recovered from the flu, and he sleeps easy at night with only his normal small snore. Brendon wonders if he'll miss Ryan's snore.

Brendon steals a sheet of paper from Brent's printer. He brings his wrist to his mouth and bites down. He lets the blood fall where it will, and when it's dry he finds some free space and writes, _i'll be your number one with a bullet._ He folds it into fours and considers placement.

Ryan sleeps on his slide, one hand under the pillow and one hand curled up near his face. Brendon moves slowly and silently, gently lifting Ryan's hand a single inch off the bed and slipping the paper underneath. Ryan's hand clenches briefly, then relaxes. He doesn't wake up.

Brendon saunters back into the hotel in a good mood half an hour before dawn to find Andrew waiting up for him. His shirt is wrinkled and unbuttoned at the top, and his hair is in disarray.

"I know you're involved in something," Andrew says, and he sounds tired. "William says not to bother you, but I thought you should know, we had a run in with the Punks tonight. Nick is dead."

Brendon stops. Nick was one of Brendon's mesmerizers - the second that he'd trained. "How is Tom?" he asks. Tom and Nick were close; they were both mesmerizers and had been turned only five years apart.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," Andrew answers. "I just thought you should know."

"Thank you," Brendon says.

He goes to Tom's room instead of his own. Tom is sitting up, half undressed, staring at the wall. He doesn't look up when Brendon comes in, but he says, "The one who did it is dead." That's good to know, but Brendon can sense what Tom doesn't say: it doesn't help.

"Good," Brendon says anyway, and lets that one word say all the things he won't say out loud: he wishes he had been there, he's angry that Nick is dead, he's proud of Tom for avenging him quickly.

He pulls Tom up from the chair and undresses him. He puts him to bed and makes sure all of his curtains are shut tight. Then he crawls into Tom's bed and tells him stories of the havoc they'll wreak on the Punks until the sun comes up.

***

Brendon focuses on Tom. He hunts with him and sleeps with him and makes sure he doesn't do anything stupid. So it's several nights before he finds a chance to check up on Ryan.

It's late when Brendon climbs in the window, and Ryan and Brent are long asleep. Brendon pauses for a minute to take Ryan in. The sight of him, his scent, his sounds, even the feeling of his mind, so close and inaccessible to Brendon. It's intoxicating; so much so after all these nights away that Brendon sways.

Brendon skims Ryan's journal to see if he's missed anything. Ryan tried to get in touch with his mother, but she hasn't called back, and Ryan's irritated because he really wants to talk to her. Ryan thinks Jac is acting a little strange. Ryan has put Brendon's latest note with all the others, but still hasn't written a word about it. One of the drops of Brendon's blood is smeared slightly and when Brendon leans down he smells Ryan's skin and saliva.

He hardens instantly, and in a split second he's dropped Ryan's journal, not bothering to muffle the sound, and he's hovering over Ryan, fingers inches from his skin, reaching out to touch, to take - Brent snorts in his sleep and Brendon snatches his hands back.

No. Not like this.

Brendon has waited this long, he can wait a little longer. Everything is going according to plan, even better, maybe. For this, Brendon can be patient.

But he needs to see Ryan again, awake and in person.

Fall Out Boy is playing at the club in two night's time, and Ryan will definitely be there. It will be risky, with Pete there, but Brendon doesn't care.

Brendon doesn't leave a note this time, just goes around the room, nudging Ryan's things slightly out of place, so Ryan will know someone was there.

The night of the show, Tom asks Brendon to hunt with him, and Brendon can't refuse. They've been keeping to the border between Dandy and Punk territory, half as something of a patrol, and half for the chance to kill any Punk they see. Every Punk killed is payment for Nick' death, as far as they're concerned.

They stroll among the buildings, waiting for someone to catch their fancy. Brendon idly glances at the graffiti that covers the walls. Some tagger has written the name LINT everywhere.

"The rumor is there's a human," Tom says.

"What?" Tom's question surprises him out of his thoughts. Tom hasn't said much for the past week.

"That's where you've been disappearing to. Is it a human?"

Brendon pauses before answering. "Yes," he says.

"The rumor also says he's immune to our mind control. Is that true?"

"Yes," Brendon answers reluctantly. He's uncomfortable that the other Dandies are discussing Ryan, though he knows it was inevitable; he couldn't keep Ryan a secret forever. But Tom doesn't push any further, just nods and lapses back into silence until he finds his meal.

When he gets to the club, Ryan is already there, and the band is finished with their first set.

Ryan is up front near the stage, and Brendon lingers in the back corner, waiting for the perfect moment to approach. He fingers the paper carefully prepared and folded in his pocket.

He's considering making his way closer to Ryan when he sees Pete emerge from the backstage door. He stills. Pete looks unhappy and intent, searching the crowd. Brendon sinks farther back into the shadows of his corner. Pete smiles tightly at the fans who have surrounded him, but he doesn't engage beyond a few words. Then his eyes lock onto something and he pushes his way through the crowd. Right to Ryan.

Brendon's hands clench into fists at his side.

Ryan is awestruck to find himself talking to Pete Wentz. Brendon's read Ryan's journal; he knows how much Ryan idolizes Pete, and he wants to push in and push Pete away, tear out his throat for daring to get near Ryan. Ryan is _his._ Pete has his own human - Brendon can smell him all over the singer from a room away.

Pete holds out a hand, introduces himself. Brendon can't hear what they're saying over the noise of the crowd, but he can guess what Ryan's reply is. Pete Wentz from Fall Out Boy needs no introduction for him.

They make what looks like small talk for a few minutes while other near them look on in envy, then Pete says something, low and intense, and Ryan's eyes widen and he leans back. Pete speaks faster and Ryan shakes his head, confused. Brendon can make out one word from the shape of Pete's mouth: dangerous.

This is about Brendon. He doesn't know how Pete knows, but he knows Pete is trying to warn Ryan.

Brendon really hopes Pete is not undoing all of his careful work. He knows that Pete doesn't have a grudge against him in particular, only all vampires, and Dandies especially. For his part, Brendon doesn't hate Pete. He is, if nothing else, fun to antagonize. Mostly his feelings for Pete run towards mild annoyance, as he often feels when someone has tried to kill him on multiple occasions.

Until now.

He considers waiting until after the show, then killing Pete, damn William's orders to hell. But he discards that idea quickly. He has the feeling that to Ryan, killing Pete may actually be worse than killing his girlfriend.

Ryan shakes his head, firmer this time. Pete runs a hand through his hair and keeps talking. Then Brendon sees the guitarist gesture at Pete from the backstage door. It's time for their second set. Pete sighs, reaches out to touch Ryan on his shoulder. Ryan flinches away. The guitarist gestures more wildly, and Pete finally goes backstage, and out of Ryan's space. Brendon relaxes slightly.

But Ryan is tense now, and when Fall Out Boy starts playing again, he stands still instead of jumping and dancing with the other kids around him. Brendon doesn't know if it's a good or bad sign.

After two songs Ryan pushes his way out of the pit and sits at the bar, chin in his hands. It's probably unwise to approach him at this point, but Brendon still needs to see him face to face, to hear him speak, to smell him react.

Besides, Brendon has never claimed to be wise.

He leans next to Ryan at the bar.

"I told you I haven't given up," he says softly, close to Ryan's ear. Ryan jerks upright. Brendon smirks.

Ryan recovers quickly though, and looks Brendon up and down appraisingly. "I guess not," he says. Brendon waits for Ryan to bring up what Pete said, to ask him something, question his intentions, but he doesn't. Instead he says, "You haven't been around in a while."

Brendon smiles. "You noticed."

Ryan rolls his eyes. "I was mildly curious is all."

"Were you worried?" Brendon asks. "I just had some family business to take care of."

"I wasn't worried," Ryan says.

"Ryan Ross," Brendon says sadly, "you wound me."

Ryan tilts his head and gives Brendon a look he can't decipher. "I knew you were okay."

Brendon doesn't know how to respond, so he looks at the stage. Pete is playing his instrument, but glaring at the bar. Brendon realizes that Ryan might be sitting here talking to him _because_ Pete warned him off. Ryan is just that contrary, but of course, Pete doesn't know that. Brendon tips his hat to the stage in thanks. Pete scowls and looks down at his bass.

The exchange does not go unnoticed by Ryan and he raises his eyebrows, and opens his mouth to say something when a flurry of blonde hair and perfume attaches herself to his arm.

"Sorry I'm late," Jac says, "Audrey had issues." She notices Brendon then and her eyes cloud over in confusion. "Who's your friend?"

Brendon does not trust his willpower any further tonight. "Just leaving," he says. He brushes by Ryan and into the crowd, slipping his note into the pocket of Ryan's hoodie, unnoticed.

When Ryan gets home he will find the heavy, expensive paper, with no blood on it this time, only the words, _i've found the cure to growing older._

***

It's another two weeks of watching out for Tom, hunting, and following Ryan before Brendon wakes up one night, checks Ryan's blog, and finds a cutting but vague entry on betrayal and whores. Brendon can read between the lines, and he knows that Ryan has found out about Jac. He is unable to keep the smile off of his face as he dresses.

"What are you so fucking happy about?" Mike growls at him when they see each other in the lobby.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Brendon replies as he walks out the door.

He hunts first, taking an easy meal of a weak mind to calm him and give him about as much color as he ever gets. Then it's just a question of where to find Ryan. Will he be holed up in his room, or out at the club trying to forget her in other bodies?

He checks Ryan's room first, but Ryan's not there. Only Brent and his girlfriend, and Brendon really, really did not need to see that. The club then.

Brendon passes the coffee shop on his way, looks inside and sees Ryan at a table, headphones on, laptop open, and books spread out around him. Brendon stops short. He takes one step towards the door and hesitates. He had no problem in the dim, crowded club, but the coffee shop in brightly lit and Brendon is, after all, a vampire.

One thing Brendon is not though, is _afraid_, so he straightens his back and walks inside. The girl at the counter is too cool to make a big deal out of Brendon's clothing while he orders a hot chocolate, for which Brendon is grateful.

Ryan is lost in his books and his music, and he doesn't notice when Brendon sits down across from him. Brendon sips his hot chocolate and waits. He's halfway done when Ryan looks up from his screen and starts. He pulls the headphones from his ears.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Having a hot chocolate," Brendon answers.

"You drink hot chocolate?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

Ryan shakes his head. He looks at his laptop screen, then back at Brendon. He hits a few keys and closes the computer. "I found out Jac was cheating on me." He says it like he expects Brendon to know who he's talking about.

"That's unfortunate," Brendon says, even though he really doesn't think it is.

"Why do I get the feeling you're not surprised?"

"I have no idea," Brendon says blithely.

Ryan narrows his eyes. "Pete Wentz says you're dangerous," he says abruptly. It startles Brendon, but he tries not to show it.

"Does he?" he says into his mug.

"Is he right?" Ryan presses. His eyes are very compelling, for a human.

"What do you think?" Brendon asks.

"I don't even know your name," Ryan says.

Brendon smiles. "I'm Brendon." He holds his hand out. Ryan rolls his eyes, but smiles a little when he takes Brendon's hand.

"Ryan. But you already knew that."

"Mmm," Brendon agrees. Ryan's skin is warm and Brendon's practically sizzles where they come into contact. He holds Ryan's hand for much too long and Ryan flushes, but he doesn't loosen his grip.

If Brendon asked, Ryan would probably come with him, right now, willingly. But Brendon won't ask. Not tonight. Not when Ryan is still hurting from Jac. Still mulling over Pete's warnings. Brendon wants Ryan completely, with no regrets later.

"Well Ryan, it's nice to meet you, officially," Brendon smirks as he withdraws his hand. "I'm sure I'll see you around." He stands and readjusts his hat. Ryan's face falls and he looks disappointed for just a second before he schools his features to blankness.

"Sure," he says.

Brendon leaves Ryan to his books and goes to find the rest of the Dandies. He has energy to fight off.

***

It's early in the evening and Brendon is searching for his meal on the edge of Dandy territory out of habit. Tom is staying closer to home tonight, but Brendon's been restless all week. So much so that Mike has started twitching around his left eye. So Brendon is taking himself further afield, hoping that it will burn off his excess energy.

He suspects it's mostly to do with Ryan. Brendon's reached his limits. All of his instincts are telling him to make Ryan his, while his brain is telling him to wait a bit longer, for the last bitterness at Jac to fade away, for him to stop worrying about Pete's warnings.

He jitters as he walks, so distracted by his thoughts it takes him a minute to hear the sounds of the fight a few blocks away. He smiles and speeds up. This is exactly what he needs.

He turns to the corner and the scent of Ryan's blood hits him at the same time he see the female Punk bent over Ryan's neck. His vision goes red.

He slams into the bitch from the side before she has a chance to smell him, and by the time her companions can react he's slammed a stake through her heart.

One of them cries out, a shrill, desperate keen, and they let go of Ryan to surround Brendon. Ryan slumps to the ground, blood trickling from his neck, but Brendon can tell that the other vampire hadn't bitten very deeply yet. Ryan should be okay while Brendon takes care of this.

The Punks growl at him and Brendon smiles, showing off his teeth. He takes his time loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He beckons them forward with a wave and a snarl and they rush. They're young and undisciplined, but they outnumber him three to one. Even then, Brendon is optimistic until he hears footsteps behind him.

Six more Punks enter the fray by pulling Brendon away from the female he was fighting and slamming him into the ground. He bucks one off, but another takes his place before Brendon can get up. Another holds his legs down so he can't kick. The Punk smiles down at him and licks his teeth. Brendon struggles harder. The Punk twirls Brendon's own stake in his hand and Brendon thinks, _well shit_.

Then the Punk's weight is gone and bright lights are flashing somewhere above his head. The Punk holding his legs slumps over, dead, an arrow sticking out of his back. Brendon takes the opportunity to stand, despite the spots still dancing in his vision. The fighting has paused and Brendon sees Pete, electricity still crackling over his palm. The rest of his band steps out from the shadows, crossbows and swords in hand.

Brendon looks around for Ryan and sees that he's dragged himself up against a building, slightly away from the fight. The singer is already headed that way. That's good. That's also the last time he has to consider it, because the Punks charge again, thrilled to be fighting someone they hate even more than Brendon.

It's strange, to be fighting alongside Pete, instead of against him, but Brendon's not one to be ungrateful for an advantage. Pete is fearless, and crazy to boot. Brendon's glad it's on his side for once.

Brendon focuses on the females. There's no way he'll let them live after they've touched Ryan. He's killed two and has the last up against a wall when a voice cries out, "Stop!"

The Punk stops struggling immediately and Brendon wastes no time in staking her.

"Stop!" the voice says again. Brendon lets the body fall to the ground. He steps up next to Pete and the rest of the hunters.

The vampire who spoke is a Punk sporting ripped jeans, chains, leather, and the biggest mohawk Brendon's ever seen. He's leading a whole pack of Punks. The vampires that Brendon and the hunters haven't killed yet scramble to get behind him. The lead Punk surveys the scene with a frown.

"The Punks aren't going to put up with this shit anymore. The next time anyone trespasses, we won't go easy on them." He turns to Brendon. "Tell William Beckett and Travis McCoy this is Lint's territory now. Stay out." And with that, he turns and walk away, the rest of the Punks trailing behind him.

As soon as Lint is out of sight, Brendon turns and runs to Ryan's side. The singer puffs his chest like he's going to challenge Brendon, then moves aside.

Ryan is conscious, but groggy.

"Found you," he mumbles when Brendon crouches down next to him.

The blood from his wound has slowed to barely a trickle, but Brendon leans over anyway. He hears someone cry out and ignores it. He carefully licks the puncture marks closed and looks up. The hunters are staring, but Brendon doesn't care.

Pete crouches down on Ryan's other side. "Come on," he says. "We'll take you home."

Brendon growls and doesn't loosen his grip on Ryan. "Ryan is coming with me."

"The hell he is," Pete says.

"Pete," Ryans says. He's perking up a little, pushing himself to sit up straighter. "I'm going with Brendon." Pete's face falls. He looks devastated. Brendon suppresses his smile. "Pete," Ryan says, putting his hand on Pete's. "It'll be okay." Pete shakes his head, but he stands and backs away from Ryan.

"Help me up," Ryan says softly to Brendon. Brendon could just lift Ryan and set him on his feet, but he helps him stand himself. He gets Ryan's arm around his shoulder and takes a good deal of his weight as they walk away.

"I can take you back to your dorm," Brendon offers, even though most of him is screaming at him to take Ryan back to his room and keep him there forever.

Ryan rolls his eyes. "I just chose you over Pete Wentz. I'm not going back to my dorm."

This time Brendon doesn't bother suppressing his smile. "Okay," he says, and they begin the slow walk back to the hotel.

***

The lobby is mostly empty when they get back, which Brendon is grateful for. He settles Ryan in his bed, and just the sight of it is enough to make Brendon's blood warm, but he ignores it. Ryan is barely awake anyway. Brendon doesn't have anything to give him, juice or food or any of the things humans need when they've lost blood. Hopefully it won't matter much longer.

"You'll be safe here," Brendon tells Ryan as he pulls the covers over him, even though Ryan doesn't seem concerned about it - has never seemed concerned about his safety around Brendon. Ryan nods before falling into sleep.

Brendon lets himself look for one minute before leaving the room. He goes straight to William's suite and knocks insistently on the door. Now that it's over and Ryan is safe with him, he feels himself start to shake, and forces his body to stop. It won't do in front of William.

William answers the door and Brendon doesn't bother waiting for an invitation, just pushes past him and into the room.

"I had a run-in with Lint tonight," Brendon says. William raises one eyebrow, waiting for Brendon to go on, giving nothing away. "He wanted me to give you a message. That Punk territory is his now."

"Hm," William says.

Brendon speaks through clenched teeth. "You knew about this, didn't you? That's what all the meetings with Travis have been about."

"Don't get indignant now, Brendon," William says sharply. "You haven't been interested. You've been too busy with your human. With Ryan."

The way he says Ryan's name makes Brendon's muscles tense and long for some kind of violence. He reigns it in.

"Some of Lint's Punks tried to kill Ryan tonight," Brendon says flatly. *That* makes William sit up and pay attention.

"They didn't succeed?"

"No. But barely."

"Where is Ryan now?"

"Here, in my room. He's sleeping."

William nods. "Good. Very good."

Brendon narrows his eyes suspiciously. He knows William is interested in Ryan's resistance to their powers, but his relief seems excessive for mere interest. William has his own plans and plays his own games always - Brendon has never pretended to know what all of them are. But if his games involve Ryan, then Brendon is no longer content to leave William to them. He can't call William on it though, and especially not now. This will require paying attention and paying attention. Brendon hates waiting, but he hates the thought of Ryan in trouble more.

He sits next to William on the couch. "Tell me what you and Travis talked about."

***

Ryan is still asleep when Brendon gets back to his room.

Brendon perches next to him on the bed and watches him sleep. He reaches out and brushes Ryan's hair from his face, just like he wanted to do so many times as he watched Ryan sleep in his dorm bed. Ryan's skin is cooler than normal, but that's to be expected with the blood loss. Brendon likes the feel of Ryan's skin, and the softness of his hair, so he keeps brushing his fingers through it as he listens to Ryan breathe. He tries to memorize the rhythm of it, all the little hitches; he won't be hearing them for much longer.

Sometime later, hours probably, but Brendon hasn't been counting, Ryan's breathing changes and his eyelids flutter. Brendon doesn't stop his caresses. Ryan smiles, his eyes still closed and arches into the touch.

"What time is it?" he murmurs.

"Before sunrise," Brendon tells him

"Hmm," Ryan says, and opens his eyes. Brendon hasn't yet taken the time to change after the fight, or wash, or comb his hair, but his disheveled appearance means nothing when Ryan looks at him like that.

"I can take you back to your dorm," Brendon offers again. "You have class tomorrow." Brendon has no idea if he could actually let Ryan go at this point, but he can pretend. Ryan rolls to his side and props his head up on his hand, dislodging Brendon's hand.

"I told you before, I'm not going back to my dorm. What are you waiting for?"

"I thought maybe you'd want to say goodbye, see the sun one last time, things like that." Brendon shrugs. He understands, distantly, that these things might matter to a human.

Ryan shakes his head. "I'm ready." He smiles. "Besides, I have a paper due in class tomorrow, and I didn't do it."

Brendon laughs. He reaches out and cups Ryan's cheek in his hand, runs it down Ryan's neck, feels his pulse. "Alright then. If you're sure."

"Brendon," Ryan says. He pushes himself up and presses his lips to Brendon's. Brendon's been dead for over a hundred years, but he suddenly remembers what it was like to have a heartbeat. He lets Ryan kiss him for a moment before he surges forward, licking his way into Ryan's warm mouth. He's careful of his teeth. For now.

Ryan opens for him, tilting his head back. Brendon can hear Ryan's heart beat faster, can feel the blood rushing under Ryan's skin. He pushes Ryan onto his back, follows him down, not letting their mouths part for even a second. Ryan's hands grasp the back of Brendon's neck and his shoulder, trying to pull him closer. Brendon goes willingly.

Ryan pulls his mouth away to breathe in ragged gasps. Right. Brendon forgot about that.

"Brendon, please," Ryan gasps and tilts his hips so Brendon can feel him hard against him. And that's it. Everything that Brendon's been holding back for months comes rushing out. No more waiting. Ryan is _his_.

He growls low in his throat and hisses Ryan hard, as hard as he's wanted to. No more being careful now. He pulls back to tear Ryan's t-shirt up and off. All that skin laid out in front of him makes his mouth water. He leans down to take in the smell, dragging his nose up from the middle of Ryan's chest to his throat, nuzzling there, lick over the pulse, and gently nipping it with blunt teeth.

Faintly, he can still smell the other vampires, those Punk bitches, so he licks again, rubs his cheek over the skin. He won't have Ryan smelling like anyone but him.

"Brendon, Brendon." It takes a minute for Brendon to realize Ryan is tugging at the buttons of his shirt. An excellent idea. He gets it off as quickly as possible, ripping off most of the buttons in the process. He presses down onto Ryan, bare skin against bare skin. He takes an involuntary, unnecessary breath inward at the contact - warm, and Ryan's heart beating so hard Brendon can feel it in his own chest.

Ryan presses his palm to Brendon's cheek and turns Brendon's head so they can see each other's eyes.

"Now," Ryan says.

Brendon needs no more urging, no more reassurance. He leans down and buries his fangs in Ryan's throat.

Ryan cries out in pain or pleasure or both. His back arches, but his hands clutch at Brendon's head, his hair, keeping him in place. But there's no power on earth that could make Brendon move. Ryan's blood fills his mouth, slides down his throat and he swears he's never tasted anything so sweet. It heady, and it would be easy to lose himself in Ryan's blood, but he pulls back when he feels Ryan's heart slow. He forces himself away and looks at Ryan's face. He's barely conscious, but still struggling to keep his eyes open, to look at Brendon.

Brendon licks Ryan from the corner of his lips, listens to Ryan struggle for breath. Then he brings his wrist to his mouth and bites through the skin. He holds it to Ryan's mouth.

"Drink," he says. Ryan does.


	2. Interlude

"Brendon! Brendon Urie!"

Dusk was falling and Brendon's arms were laden with packages as he passed the Widow Lawrence's dress shop. He looked up when he heard Mrs. Lawrence call his name and nearly dropped the entire armload. She beckoned him up to her porch and Brendon went carefully, trying to re-balance. The top three packages contained medicine for his mother and he didn't want anything to spill.

"Good Evening, Mrs. Lawrence," he said when he'd gained the three steps up to her level.

"I'm so glad I saw you," she said. The door to her shop stood open, and Brendon barely glimpsed a person standing in the shadows. "Brendon, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. William Beckett. He's just rented the room above the shop."

The person in the doorway stepped forward. It was a man, and he was dressed very finely, with long wavy hair unbound beneath his hat and curling around his shoulders. _He's beautiful_, Brendon thought, and swallowed hard. Then he realized he was staring and that his mother had taught him manners.

"Very pleased to meet you," he said, and put out his hand, which caused all of the packages he was holding to tumble out of his arms. He cried out, but stopped because Mr. Beckett had caught all of them. Brendon had barely seen him move. He set them carefully by the door, then took the ones Brendon had managed to hold on to, and put them there as well. He put out his hand. Brendon shook it out of reflex.

"You as well, Mr. Urie," Mr. Beckett said, and smiled. When he smiled it became clear he wasn't much older than Brendon himself. He was staring again, but Mr. Beckett didn't seem to mind. In fact, his smile grew wider. He still hadn't let go of Brendon's hand.

"Mr. Beckett is looking for an assistant for a few days a week. Someone to help him with his business affairs. I immediately thought of you, of course." Mrs. Lawrence's voice startled Brendon and he pulled his hand away quickly and held it behind his back.

Mr. Beckett didn't seem concerned. "I've recently come from the city," he said. His accent was as fine as his clothing. He might have come from the city more recently, but he was obviously from England before that. Brendon bit back the instinctive why that rose to his lips. He couldn't imagine wanting to leave the city for a town like this. Brendon had dreamed of getting out since he was a child.

"I have a very rare medical condition," Mr. Beckett continued, "that makes my skin extremely sensitive to sunlight. Of course this makes it difficult to conduct my business when it requires to be done in daylight. I would need to you the afternoons and early evenings. I would compensate you very well, and of course you are free on Sundays and any other day your family requires you."

"I'll have to speak with my father..." Brendon said, even though he wanted to accept immediately.

"Of course," Mr. Beckett said. "You can find me here, and Mrs. Lawrence will take messages if it's during the day."

"Do tell your parents I send them my best," Mrs. Lawrence said as Brendon began gathering up his packages again. "And that I will see them on Sunday."

"I will. Good night Mrs. Lawrence, Mr. Beckett."

He couldn't help looking back once as he walked away, but Mr. Beckett was nowhere to be seen.

***

Brendon let himself into Mr. Beckett's room with his key, moving quietly. Mr. Beckett slept during the day, and although Brendon hadn't yet woken him, he was always afraid he would, and that Mr. Beckett would dismiss him immediately. It had only been a few short weeks, but he had come to love his job, and not being Mr. Beckett's assistant was the worst thing he could imagine.

He checked the desk that had been designated as his for the letter Mr. Beckett always left, detailing his tasks for the day. It was nothing out of the ordinary today. Letters to take to the post office before it closed, instructions to take to the back before it closed, letters to re-write. He took out everything he needed, making sure to get receipts, though Mr. Beckett never asked for them. After that he sat down and began his copying. He didn't have the nicest penmanship, but Mr. Beckett didn't mind. (Probably because Mr. Beckett's penmanship was worse than Brendon's. It was the only thing about him that wasn't as beautiful as his clothing.) In fact, Mr. Beckett didn't mind many of the faults Brendon had been unable to correct despite years of trying and his father's reprimands, like his penmanship, or his tendency to talk far past when he should have stopped, or his clumsiness. At most, he seemed to find them very amusing.

The sun went down and Brendon turned the lamps up and started listening for movement from Mr. Beckett's room. Just like every other night, however, he heard nothing until Mr. Beckett opened the door and came out into the sitting room fully dressed.

"Good Evening, Brendon," Mr. Beckett said.

"Good Evening, Mr. Beckett."

Mr. Beckett drifted over the stove. "Would you like some tea, Brendon?"

"Yes, thank you Mr. Beckett."

Brendon had spent his entire first week attempting to make tea for Mr. Beckett, and had finally realized that Mr. Beckett just liked the acting of making tea himself.

Brendon continued copying, interrupting himself often to look up and watch Mr. Beckett. He was dressed as finely as ever, and all of his movements were graceful. It was fascinating to Brendon, who would never be allowed to dress in such a dandified manner, and who, as far as he knew, had never managed to be graceful in his entire life.

Mr. Beckett finished the tea and set the service on the low table in front of the sofa. "None of that is very important," he said. "Come sit with me for a few moments." he gestured to the place beside him. Brendon went obediently, reminding himself to breathe. It was just a cup of tea with his employer. Nothing to be nervous over.

He sat and Mr. Beckett handed him a cup. It was creamy and sweet like he was never allowed to drink it at home, because he was barely able to sit still as it was, even without the addition of sugar.

"Thank you," he remembered to say and felt himself blush.

Mr. Beckett smiled. "You're welcome." He took a sit from his own cup. "Tell me about yourself, Brendon. Mrs. Lawrence tell me you finished school with top marks. Did you not wish to go to university?"

Brendon briefly wondered how Mr. Beckett managed to bring up such a touchy subject so quickly. "My mother's been ill, so I stayed home to help my family. When she recovers I'll go to seminary."

"Oh?" Mr. Beckett said, arching one eyebrow. "You have a vocation, then?"

"Well," Brendon said. No. The answer was no. But he'd never told anyone that before. No one had ever asked.

"I see," Mr. Beckett said into the silence. "You're father wants you to follow in his footsteps, but you are not so sure."

"Yes," Brendon admitted, and was amazed at how much better that one word made him feel. Just having someone else know about his misgivings felt like a weight lifted from his shoulders.

"It's very good of you to help your family like that. Your job here doesn't interfere with your duties there too much, I hope."

Brendon shook his head frantically. "Not at all! Truthfully, it's - it's good to be away from there, sometimes."

"I understand completely," Mr. Beckett said. "Mrs. Lawrence also tells me you play the organ for services. She says you're very talented."

Brendon blushed again. He wished he would stop doing that. "She exaggerates," he said. "I am extremely mediocre at the organ." His father told him so all the time, as well as how silly it would be for Brendon to go to university and study music.

"Hmm," Mr. Beckett said. "Do you enjoy it, though?"

"Yes. I love it."

"I'd like to hear you play sometime."

Oh, that reminded Brendon of the conversation he'd had with his father.

"Mr. Beckett, my father would like me to tell you that since you are unable to come to Sunday morning services due to your condition, he holds Saturday evening services to which you'd be more than welcome."

"Please tell your father that's very kind of him, but I do not attend services at all."

"Oh." Brendon wouldn't tell his father any of that, actually. His father had very strong opinions on people who didn't go to church.

"I would like to hear you play though," Mr. Beckett continued. "Well, I'll think of something."

Brendon felt very strange, sitting there on the sofa with Mr. Beckett. Not that anything was wrong, exactly. Only it was ... strange. Something he couldn't put his finger on. He was aware of every inch of space that separated them, and how still Mr. Beckett was. He took a sip of his tea to distract himself, but couldn't help looking up at Mr. Beckett from under his eyelashes. Mr. Beckett caught him looking and smiled. Brendon heart stuttered and beat faster. Mr. Beckett smiled wider, as if he could hear.

"Would you like another cup?"

"Please," Brendon managed, though it felt like something was caught in his throat. As Mr. Beckett took his cup their fingers brushed. _Oh_, Brendon thought, _it's cold_.

But then Mr. Beckett asked him another question, and he forgot.

***

They settled into a pattern. Mr. Beckett would make tea when he woke up and Brendon would stop his work for a while to drink it with him and talk. Mr. Beckett asked him a lot of questions and Brendon always answered them willingly until it seemed Mr. Beckett must know everything about him, and he barely knew anything about Mr. Beckett besides his instructions to the bank and what was in his letters, which wasn't very much at all. Mr. Beckett told him stories, sometimes, about the city and the people he'd known there, or shows he'd seen, but they never included a lot of information about Mr. Beckett himself.

Brendon was very curious, but he didn't want to offend Mr. Beckett and be sent away, so he kept all of his questions to himself.

At home, his mother was recovering, but slowly. It began to feel to Brendon that the house and the church were a prison, and the only time he was free was when he was playing the piano or the organ and he could lose himself in the music. Or when he was with Mr. Beckett.

He was sure his father had noticed his unhappiness, but he said nothing. Reverend Urie was a dour man, disinclined to shows of emotion or affection. Brendon had often overheard members of the congregation wondering how such a man could produce such bright and happy children as Brendon and his sisters. The answer was their mother, who loved music and laughter, though she'd had the energy for neither since her illness.

One evening after sunset, Mr. Beckett came out of his room, but did not make tea. Instead he put on his hat and a short cape and said, "Come with me."

Brendon scrambled into his coat and followed Mr. Beckett outside. Mr. Beckett led him to the front of a nice house, which Brendon was fairly certain belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Turner. Mr. Beckett produced a key from his pocket and let them inside.

"Mr. and Mrs. Turner have gone to the city for a few weeks, but they were kind enough to allow me the use of their home for this purpose."

It was very dark inside, but Mr. Beckett seemed to have no trouble finding his way. Even with Mr. Beckett leading him, Brendon stubbed his toe and banged his shin several times. Mr. Beckett lit a few lamps and revealed what they had come here for. In the corner of the room was a piano.

"I said I'd think of something," Mr. Beckett said. Brendon couldn't keep the smile from his face as he sat down.

"What would you like to hear?" he asked.

"Anything you'd like to play," Mr. Beckett said. He took off his cape and laid it over the sofa before positioning himself by the mantle and watching Brendon.

Brendon started simply with a few of his favorite hymns, then on to the more difficult pieces that showed off his ability. He threw himself into the music and got lost there. Nothing outside it, no interruptions. Finally, he moved on to the music that didn't exist yet, except inside his head, that he'd never had the courage to play out loud.

He didn't know how long he played before he looked up at Mr. Beckett, his still moving on the keys. Mr. Beckett was half bathed in moonlight streaming through the window and half in soft lamplight. He was the most beautiful thing Brendon had ever seen. The look on his face was complicated, but Brenodn was sure he looked please. He smiled and Mr. Beckett smiled back.

Brendon wanted to stay there forever.

***

The knock on the door came when Brendon and Mr. Beckett were settled on the sofa and Brendon was in the middle of explaining exactly how his youngest sister had gotten herself caught beneath his organ pedals on Sunday. The knock surprised Brendon into silence in the middle of a word. Mr. Beckett never had visitors.

Mr. Beckett tensed. Brendon could feel it where their thighs were pressed together and he wondered suddenly when they had begun to sit so close together.

"Stay here," Mr. Beckett said. His voice was cold, so unlike how he normally spoke to Brendon. "And stay silent." Brendon could only nod. Mr. Beckett opened the door, but blocked Brendon's view with his body. Whoever was on the other side, they exchanged a few whispered words with Mr. Beckett before he relaxed and let them into the room.

It was a man, and his clothing was just as fancy as Mr. Beckett's, though it was dirty and stained and rumpled, probably from traveling. Also, in Brendon's opinion, his face was not nearly a beautiful as Mr. Beckett's.

"It's alright, Brendon," Mr. Beckett said. "This is my associate, Michael Carden."

Brendon stood and offered his hand. "Please to meet you, Mr. Carden."

Mr. Carden didn't take Brendon's hand. He looked at it for a moment before looking at Mr. Beckett, and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "What are you doing, William?" he asked.

"Michael, this Brendon Urie, my assistant," Mr. Beckett continued, as if Mr. Carden had not spoken. "He's the reverend's son and plays the piano beautifully."

Mr. Carden sighed. "Very charmed, Brendon Urie," he said woodenly.

"Um," Brendon said.

"Mike and I have quite a bit to catch up on," Mr. Beckett said. "So you may go early tonight. Why don't you come by tomorrow to finish tonight's work, if you can."

"Yes, alright," Brendon stuttered as he hastily put on his coat. Mr. Carden was glaring at both Brendon and Mr. Beckett, and Brendon couldn't get out of there fast enough.

He took a deep breath of cold air when he was outside and realized it was well into autumn now. Hadn't it just been summer? It seemed like it.

Brendon couldn't help but think about Mr. Carden on the way home. He recognized the name now. He had copied and sent many letters to Mr. Michael Carden. He tried to remember what the letters had been about, but all of the letters had started for blur together after a while.

There was a strange feeling in his chest the entire walk home; a tight, uncomfortable feeling. He wondered what Mr. Beckett and Mr. Carden were doing without Brendon there. Were they talking? Talking like Brendon and Mr. Beckett did, pressed together on the sofa? Brendon grit his teeth, imagining it. Oh, he realized as he opened the door to his house, I'm jealous.

He didn't have time to dwell on the revelation, however, because he was confronted with light from their sitting room, and his father's voice.

"Brendon," he said, "you're home early."

Brendon walked into the sitting room. His father was there, and his mother, covered in blankets and looking pale. There was another couple that Brendon vaguely recognized as the reverend from a nearby town and his wife.

"I finished my work early, so Mr. Beckett said I could go," Brendon lied. He didn't know why he didn't mention Mr. Carden.

"Well that's nice," his mother said.

"Hm," was his father's response. "Brendon, you remember Reverend and Mrs. McLynn?"

"Of course," Brendon said, and made pleasantries with only half of his mind. They were all looking at him very strangely.

"Sit down," his father said when Brendon had finished. Brendon did, only now recognizing that this did not appear to be a social call. "Go on, Reverend."

"We discovered the fifth body yesterday morning," Reverend McLynn said. "Same as the others. I'd say it was an animal attack, except... Except that the doctor said there was no blood at all left in the body."

"Oh dear," his mother said faintly. Brendon was at her side immediately.

"Would you like me to take you to your room, mother?" he asked.

"Yes, I think you'd better," she said. His father waved them off and returned his attention to Reverend McLynn, who was saying, "We're not the only ones who have found such things. You're sure nothing has happened here?"

"Thank you, Brendon," his mother said when he had settled her in bed.

"They shouldn't be speaking of such things in front of you," Brendon said as he mixed her nightly medicines and set them by her bed. She took his hand in hers. It was thin and cool, but not, Brendon thought idly, as cold as Mr. Beckett's or Mr. Carden's.

"You're a good boy, Brendon," she said. "I'm sorry you must stay here and take care of me. I know you've been unhappy lately."

"I'm not sorry," Brendon said, even though it wasn't precisely true. He hated seeing his mother unhappy. "I love you, Mother." He kissed her on the forehead and took himself to bed. He dreamed of bloodless bodies and Mr. Beckett's cold thigh pressed against his.

***

His father kept him very busy the next day, taking care of his mother, and watching his sisters, and doing various tasks around the church and the house. It wasn't until after supper that Brendon had a moment to himself. The sun had nearly set when he put on his coat to go to Mr. Beckett's.

"What are you doing?" his father asked him from the doorway to the parlor, startling Brendon.

"Mr. Beckett asked me to come by this evening and take care of a few things," Brendon explained while he did up his buttons.

"No," his father said.

"What?" Brendon asked, fingers stilling on the bottom button.

"You heard me. I don't want you going over there tonight. In fact, you will tell Mr. Beckett that you will be unable to continue as his assistant. Your family needs you here."

Brendon's heart beat loudly in his ears. "But Father - "

"I said no, Brendon. Now take off your coat and go help your mother."

Brendon tried to imagine doing as his father said, obeying him as he always did. Taking off his coat and helping his mother and never seeing Mr. Beckett again. He couldn't.

"No," he shook his head.

"What did you say?" Oh, his father was angry. He hadn't seen his father this angry in a long time. But he couldn't back down now.

"You heard me," Brendon said, lifting his chin. "I'm going to Mr. Beckett's." He walked out the door before his father could speak.

Once he closed the door behind him he started running. He ran the entire way to Widow Lawrence's dress shop, cold air burning his lungs. He paused briefly on the stairs to Mr. Beckett's room to catch his breath, but he knew he must be a sight: red-faced, and in disarray.

It was long past sunset and Mr. Beckett was surely awake, so Brendon knocked on the door. He was trying for calm, but he thought it came out more frantic.

Mr. Beckett answered the door, took one look at Brendon and ushered him inside.

"Brendon, what's wrong?" he asked. Mr. Carden was there, Brendon noticed, lounging on the sofa, he he didn't care.

"My father," he said, and spilled the entire story, starting with Reverend McLynn and ending with disobeying his father's orders. Mr. Beckett and Mr. Carden exchanged a long look when he was done.

Mr. Carden sighed and stood up. "If you're sure of this, William," he said. Mr. Beckett nodded. "Fine," Mr. Carden said, and disappeared into the bedroom.

Mr. Beckett led Brendon to the couch and sat him down before sitting himself. "I was planning on waiting a few more weeks, but clearly that is not to be. Brendon, I am leaving. Mike and I plan to go west, to a new city and start fresh." Brendon went cold. Mr. Beckett was leaving? Leaving with Carden? Leaving Brendon alone here where his soul would shrivel and die?

Mr. Beckett grasped his chin and forced Brendon to meet his eyes.

"Brendon, I'm asking if you'd like to come with me."

"What?" Brendon asked faintly. "Go with you?"

Mr. Beckett smiled. "Yes, with me. I've grown quite fond of you, you know."

"My father will never let me," Brendon said.

"I didn't plan on asking his permission," Mr. Beckett said. Oh. "We'd have to leave tonight, secretly, and quickly." His expression grew serious. "You would never be able to see your family again if you came with me."

Brendon found he could not look away from Mr. Beckett's eyes.

"Mr. Beckett," he began.

"You must call me William," he said. His fingers were cold, but they seemed to burn into Brendon's skin.

"William," he managed to say.

"What do you say, Brendon Urie? Would you like to spend forever with me?"

And Brendon could only say, "Yes."


	3. Chapter 3

Brendon wakes to silence and Ryan's weight draped over him. Ryan's head is tucked between his neck and shoulder, and Ryan's nose is nuzzling the skin at the base of his throat. It's a wonderful way to wake up and Brendon immediately decides he'll never wake up any other way if he can help it. He tightens his arms around Ryan's bare shoulders. Ryan makes a pleased sound.

"I felt it when the sun went down," he says. Brendon nods and taps out a rhythm against Ryan's upper arm. He likes Ryan's skin; it's smooth, no longer hot to the touch, but still intoxicating. He would like to keep Ryan here, just his for weeks, maybe months, to do all the things he's imagined, but -

Ryan shifts restlessly and lifts his head. "Brendon, I'm hungry."

That won't be possible.

"Then we'll get you something to eat," Brendon says, and lets Ryan go with one last caress down his spine. Ryan seems similarly reluctant to let go of Brendon and that pleases him.

Brendon's pants are hopelessly wrinkled and stained, and Ryan has no other clothes besides those he left his dorm in - jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie.

"We'll have to get your clothing," Brendon says as he dresses. "I don't think mine will fit you."

Ryan shrugs as if he doesn't care, but Brendon can see him eying Brendon's over-stuffed wardrobe.

Brendon leads Ryan downstairs to the lobby where a large contingent of Dandies are waiting. William stands when Ryan steps into view. He is dressed, Brendon notices, especially carefully. Mike is at his side, and the rest of the Dandies look on in unabashed curiosity.

"Welcome, Ryan. It's splendid to finally have you with us," William says grandly. "I am William Beckett, leader of this humble band."

Brendon snorts softly and sees Mike do the same.

"Um, hi," Ryan says. He takes a step back so that his shoulder is brushing Brendon's, but doesn't make any other move. His senses must be going into overdrive with so many other vampires in the room, and it will be worse once they get outside. Brendon will keep an eye out, but won't offer help so soon. Not in front of the others, anyway. It would only hurt Ryan in the long run.

"Allow me to introduce you to your new brothers," William goes on. He goes around the room, pointing out Mike and Tom and Adam and Danny and Christopher. Ryan won't remember them all, Brendon can tell. His eyes are nearly glazed with hunger, and his shoulder twitches from holding himself in check. Brendon is about to interrupt William to complain loudly - it wouldn't be the first time - but William interrupts himself.

"Ah, but you must be famished, and this can wait until later. For now, Dandies, let us hunt!"

That garners an enthusiastic response, and William leads them all out to the street.

"Take your cues from me," Brendon says softly in Ryan's ear. Ryan nods, and his hand squeezes Brendon's for a brief second before letting go.

"Ryan, come walk with me," William beckons. Ryan steals a glance at Brendon and Brendon nods. He goes with Ryan, even though he wasn't technically invited. He doesn't believe he's capable of letting Ryan out of his reach just yet, nor does he want to.

"Tomorrow night we'll start work on getting you proper clothing," William says. "There's a wonderful tailor in out territory who keeps very reasonable night hours."

"Yeah," Ryan says, faintly, "Brendon mentioned." He's trying to pay attention, Brendon can tell, but he's distracted by everything he can hear and smell. William smiles at him, indulgent.

They stay well within their own territory tonight. All skirmishes and power struggles take a backseat to feeding and educating a new member of the gang. Just when Ryan is starting to get truly restless, William stops. A group of people are walking out of a restaurant, laughing and joking with each other. Brendon can feel the anticipation grow among the vampires behind him. He can never keep still in these moments and he shifts from foot to foot, one eye on William, one on Ryan.

Ryan's hands are clenched into fists, but he holds himself back admirably.

Finally, William nods and the Dandies surge forward. Ryan stays by Brendon's side as they rush the humans. They're halfway to them when the humans realize something's wrong. They scream and try to run, but it's already too late.

Brendon chooses his prey and hones in quickly. It's a man in his early twenties, probably. He's bigger than Brendon, but he's no match. Usually, Brendon likes to play, especially with the bigger ones, but not tonight. He takes control of the man's mind quickly. The man's knees buckles, but Brendon catches him easily and holds him, back to his chest. Ryan is watching intently, his mouth parted, his new teeth extended and glistening.

"Come here," Brendon says. Ryan moves closer, eyes darting between the man and Brendon. Brendon tilts the man's head back and to the side. He brushes his fingers along the artery where he can feel the blood pumping. "Here," he tells Ryan. "Can you hear it?" Ryan nods and steps forward.

All around them the Dandies are feeding gleefully, but around Brendon and Ryan it's a pocket of quiet and anticipation.

Brendon watches Ryan's face. He can see the conflict there between Ryan's hunger and the last vestiges of conscience that doesn't want to kill a human. Brendon waits and watches. This is where Pete failed as a vampire. He has higher hopes for Ryan.

Brendon sees the moment when hunger wins out and Ryan darts forward and begins feeding. Brendon's cock hardens as he watches Ryan sate his hunger, feels the body he's holding go still and cold. When the man's heart has beat it's last, Ryan straightens. There's color high in his cheeks now. His lips are stained red, and there's a smear of blood at the corner of his mouth.

Brendon drops the body between them and then Ryan's on him. Their mouths crash together, then open. Neither of them are careful of teeth this time. Brendon licks the traces of blood out of Ryan's mouth and Ryan moans loudly. He bites Brendon's lip, nicking it, then sucking at the drops of blood. Brendon wants to throw him down to the pavement and take him right on the street. But the wouldn't be dignified, and they are, after all, Dandies.

He pulls away with effort and presses their foreheads together.

"When we get home," he promises. Ryan nods, eyes closed. Brendon presses a short kiss to his lips.

"Let's hurry," Ryan says.

Brendon couldn't agree more.

***

"And these will be your rooms," William tells Ryan, opening the door with a flourish. Ryan darts a look between William and Brendon and Brendon puts on the blandest face he can manage.

"You'll need some place to put your new clothes," he says casually. "They won't all fit in mine."

Ryan relaxes. "True," he says, and walks inside. It is true. Over the course of the last three nights Ryan has commissioned an impressive wardrobe - even William and Brendon were impressed. William had commented on how easily Ryan was adapting to the Dandy lifestyle. Brendon doesn't know why it set his teeth on edge, since he agreed.

He does notice that Ryan's new rooms are closer to William's than Brendon's. He's glad Ryan doesn't plan to sleep in them.

He saunters through the door behind Ryan, determined that William won't see anything bothering him.

Ryan is dressed smartly in black slacks, a white shirt, and a black vest. Their tailor will be busy for weeks putting together the elaborate clothing Ryan requested. Until then, he has a few simple pieces to hold him over.

Brendon drapes himself over Ryan's shoulder and Ryan leans into him.

"I like your rooms better," Ryan says.

"Of course you do," Brendon says. "They have me in them." He doesn't need to see Ryan's face to know he's rolling his eyes.

***

Brendon wakes when he feels the sun go down.

Ryan is already awake, his fingers brushing over Brendon's hip and his nose tucked behind Brendon's ear.

"I want to go somewhere tonight," Ryan says softly. "Just us, no one else. Is that alright?"

"Anything you want." It's more of a blanket statement than a reply. Brendon doesn't believe he'll ever be able to deny Ryan anything.

They dress quickly and leave the hotel before most of the Dandies are out of bed. After a short stop for something to eat Brendon lets Ryan lead the way. It isn't long before he recognizes where they're going; he used the same route when he went to look in on Ryan in his dorm room.

"I just want a few of my things," Ryan says when they reach the edge of campus.

Brendon shrugs and shows Ryan how to reach his old room without being seen. The window by Ryan's old bed is still unlocked.

Ryan's face is blank as he looks around the room he used to live in. Does he miss it, now that he's here? Brendon doesn't know. When he left his human life he left it completely and never looked back. Ryan doesn't linger long. He grabs his journal, and notebook, and his iPod, and then he's climbing back out of the window, leaving everything else undisturbed.

Brendon glances at the other side of the room before he follows. He wonders if Brent is worried about Ryan, if he's reported him missing yet. It's been over a week.

They're only a block off of campus when they run into Pete, which is what makes Brendon think he was keeping an eye out for them.

It's not that Brendon thought they could avoid Pete forever, but he was hoping to put off the confrontation a little while longer. It's lucky Pete didn't catch them while they were eating. He doubts Pete would let even Ryan get away with eating a human without a fight.

"So you did it then," Pete says. His hands are stuffed into the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt, and his shoulders are hunched, but Brendon doesn't let that fool him into thinking he won't be ready for a fight if it comes to it.

Normally this would be the time to taunt Pete. Brendon's won, after all, and getting a rise our of Pete is a favorite hobby of his. But he can be a gracious winner, just this once, for Ryan's sake. And anyway, Ryan's already answering.

"It was my choice," he says.

"I told you -"

"It was my choice," Ryan says again, and lifts his chin defiantly. Pete looks him up and down. In his hat, tie, and vest, his tailored pants and his shiny shoes, Ryan looks every inch a Dandy. Pete looks away.

"There's another way," Pete says. "Patrick makes a blend. Tastes like shit, but it-"

"Pete," Ryan interrupts. "Pete, I'm not like you." He doesn't say it meanly, but Pete recoils as if he's been slapped.

"Fine," he says. "Get out of here then. Next time I see you, I'll kill you."

"You can try," Brendon growls, putting himself between Pete and Ryan. Pete sneers, showing his teeth, and steps back into an alley.

"Let's go home," Ryan says tightly. Brendon nods.

The walk back is silent.

Most of the Dandies are still out when they get back and the few lounging in the lobby nod their greetings but mind their own business.

In Brendon's room Ryan sets his things on Brendon's desk, undresses down to his shirt and pants, and lays on the bed. Brendon doesn't know what to say. He knows how much Ryan idolized Pete when he was human, and now Pete's threatening to kill him. It's probably the first consequence of being a vampire that Ryan hadn't prepared for. He wonders if he feels any regret now.

Brendon sheds all of his clothing and climbs into the bed next to Ryan. He might as well remind him what he gave it all up for. Ryan turns onto his side and looks Brendon in the eye for a long moment.

"Back, before, when Pete warned me you were dangerous, he told me you could control people's minds and make them do whatever you want. I didn't really believe him then, but I've seen you do it. William says you're the most talented mesmerizer he's ever come across."

Brendon nods cautiously. He thinks he knows what's coming.

"Did you," Ryan says, then pauses, like he's forgotten he doesn't need to take a deep breath. "Did you mesmerize me, when I was human? To make me..." he trails off, but Brendon can fill in the blanks. To make me want you. To make me want to be a vampire.

"No," Brendon says. "I couldn't."

Ryan raises his eyebrow. "I didn't think you possessed those kinds of morals, Brendon. Or any morals at all."

"I don't," Brendon says. "I mean I literally couldn't. I tried, but my powers never worked on you."

"Oh." Ryan's eyes widen. "That's why William is so interested in me." Brendon's surprised that Ryan can tell William's paying him more attention than the normal new member, but he's not wrong, so he nods. He reaches out to play with a piece of Ryan's hair.

"Why did it take you so long to ask?"

Ryan shrugs. "I don't know. I was pretty sure you hadn't, but I -"

"Had to be sure," Brendon finishes for him.

"Yeah." He huffs out a small laugh. "Pretty stupid, considering it's a little too late for that, right?"

"No," Brendon says. He wraps the hair around his finger and tugs idly.

"Your powers really didn't work on me?" Ryan asks.

"No one's did," Brendon answers. "It was just one of the ways in which you were a very peculiar human."

"What do you mean?"

Brendon smooths down the hair he just messed up. "I mean that you were never scared of me. You never told anyone that you were being stalked. You never even tried locking your window."

Ryan shrugs. "I guess … I figured if you had wanted to hurt me, you would have done it. And then I was pretty sure you weren't gonna hurt me."

"You were wrong," Brendon says. "I wanted to kill you."

"No," Ryan corrects. "You wanted to spend forever with me. I don't regret it, Brendon," he says. He pushes closer and tucks himself into his customary place at Brendon's side. "I don't regret it at all."

Brendon smiles into Ryan's hair. "Good," he says. "That's good."

***

Brendon starts bringing Tom out to hunt with himself and Ryan. Brendon doesn't do guilt, but if he did, he might feel a little bit guilty for leaving Tom on his own for weeks while Brendon was busy with Ryan. But Brendon refuses to bring Ryan near Punk territory, and Tom still prefers to do his hunting there in hopes of getting further revenge for Nick. It's reckless, especially considering what Brendon told him about Lint, and he prefers when Tom joins them instead.

Ryan takes a liking to Tom, and Tom is more inclined to talk to Ryan than anyone since Nick's death. Tom was an artist when he was human, and he tells Ryan stories about the people who paid him to sketch their portraits.

"That's how William found me, you know," he tells Ryan. "I sketched him, and after that he found me every week and bought a picture."

"The charcoal portrait hanging in William's room, that's yours, isn't it?" Ryan asks.

"Yes," Tom says, surprised. Brendon is not surprised, even though he knows Ryan's only been in William's rooms once. This has been happening more often; Ryan just knowing things. Brendon knows William is waiting anxiously to see what kind of talent Ryan develops, and he's pretty sure this is it. He hasn't told William, only, he tells himself, because he's not certain yet. Ryan hasn't brought it up either - to Brendon or to William. Either he hasn't noticed or he's playing things close to the vest.

"I could sketch you, once we're home," Tom offers. This does surprise Brendon. Tom has always been private about his art. Only William and Nick have ever seen his full collection, and he rarely asks anyone to sit for him.

"That'd be cool," Ryan says with a smile.

They spend a few more hours out, hunting leisurely. Ryan is on his way to becoming a exceptional hunter. He has a way of disarming his victims with his appearance and then a complete ruthlessness when he goes in for the kill. It's exhilarating to watch.

They saunter into the hotel two hours before dawn. Tom walks through the door before Brendon and stops short. Brendon steps around him, already knowing from the scent what he'll see.

Travis McCoy is sprawled on one of the lobby couches, arms stretched across the back of it, acting like he owns the place. Adam and Robert are standing at the bottom of the stairs, uncomfortable, but unwilling to leave Travis alone in their stronghold.

Brendon motions for Tom to keep Ryan back and crosses the room to stand in front of Travis. "What are you doing here?"

Travis doesn't move. "I came to speak with Beckett, since he won't return my correspondences."

"What's the matter, McCoy? He didn't respect you in the morning?" Brendon sneers. Travis is up and snarling in Brendon's face in a flash.

"Shut up, puppy. While you Dandies have been MIA over the past month, Lint and his Punks have been all over my territory. They've killed six of us already. What, did Lint scare you poor babies so bad you had to hide safe in your own territory?" His head jerks and focuses on something over Brendon's shoulder. Brendon turns to see that Ryan has pushed his way past Tom, and not happy about being held back in the first place.

Travis crosses the room, Brendon on his heels.

"Well well well, what have we here," Travis croons. "A newbie?" Ryan stares at him, stubbornly silent. "Is this what's been keeping ya'll occupied? I don't blame you." He reached out a hand towards Ryan's face, and Brendon stops him with a grip on his wrist so tight he can hear bones grinding.

"Do. Not. Touch," he says, his voice all growl. He squeezes Travis' wrist for emphasis, then lets go. Travis drops his hand.

"Fine," he says, glaring. "You fucking tell William Beckett that I'll be back. The Hoods aren't cannon fodder." Then he's gone.

"Well, fuck," Tom says after a few seconds. Brendon agrees.

"What's going on?" Ryan asks, carefully neutral. Brendon and Tom exchange a look.

"I'll wait for William," Tom says. Brendon nods his thanks.

"Check the outside," he tells Adam and Robert as he passes them. "Make sure we don't have any lurkers."

Back in his rooms he sits Ryan on one of the couches and loosens his tie. "What do you want to know?" he asks.

"Lint's the one with the mohawk, right? From the night I was ... attacked?" Brendon nods. "What's his deal?" Ryan asks. "Why is he so dangerous?"

Brendon pushes his hands through his hair. "He's dangerous because the Punks outnumber us at least five to one. It hasn't been a problem, because while we may be the smallest gang in the city, we're the most powerful. We're older, stronger, with stronger powers. We choose new members carefully - people we think will be powerful as well. The Punks, most of them aren't older than a few decades. They turn people randomly, but then leave them to fend for themselves, practically, letting them get picked off by hunters or other vampires. Until now there's been no central leadership. They don't think or act as a group."

"But if Lint's become their leader, if he can bring them together, then they become a real threat," Ryan says.

"Exactly. William and Travis knew this was coming. The Hoods are vulnerable. They're not as powerful as the Dandies, and they don't have the Punks' numbers."

"So Travis came to William."

"It is in William's best interest to take care of the problem now. If he waited until the Punks took care of the Hoods, they might become powerful enough to really challenge him."

"Okay," Ryan nods. "So what are we going to do?"

Brendon shrugs and finally sits, laying his head in Ryan's lap and stretching his legs out. "That's for William to decide," he says.

Ryan pets his hair and Brendon closes his eyes. "I guess we'll find out tomorrow night then," Ryan says.

"Count on it."

***

The next night a sheet of heavy, expensive paper is slipped underneath the door. The writing is William's, and it says they're to come to his rooms as soon as they're presentable.

Brendon dawdles, and he notices that Ryan takes longer than usual to button up his shirt and tie his tie.

It isn't that Brendon doesn't want this situation dealt with; he'd really rather not have other gang leaders showing up in his home, thank you very much, but he knows, and he knows that Ryan senses it too, that things are about to change. That the blissful bubble he and Ryan have lived in for the past month is about to burst. It isn't fair, Brendon thinks. He should have years before he has to deal with the world outside of Ryan.

Eventually, however, his tie can't be retied and Ryan's hair really is perfect. It's time to go.

It's not a long walk to William's suite, no matter how slowly they move. Mike lets them in and shows them to the sitting room where William has tea waiting. William doesn't waste time with small talk. As soon as they're settled with their cups he says, "I'm sure you know why I've called you here. Travis, though uncouth in his methods, is correct. We can no longer sit out of this fight."

"We shouldn't have been sitting out of it at all," Mike says, but quiets when William looks at him.

"The timing was unfortunate, but necessary," William says. "Though I would like to give you more time to adjust, Ryan, the truth is that I believe you will play an important part in the battles to come."

Ryan's eyes widen. "Me?"

"Yes," William says earnestly. Mike glaring into his cup.

"But why?" Ryan asks. Mike and William exchange a glance. "Mike and I have encountered Lint before, a long time ago, when we were all very young. His talent is a kind of ... charisma, and we believe -"

"We don't know for sure," Mike interrupts.

"No, but we have reason to believe that his powers work on other vampires."

Brendon nearly drops his cup. "Are you serious? I've never heard of anything like that."

"And until a few months ago, we had never heard of a human who could resist our powers," William says with a significant glance towards Ryan.

"I don't get it," Ryan says. "Why is that a big deal?"

"Think of our powers as a kind of ... evolutionary advantage we've developed to hunt our prey: humans," William says.

"They _shouldn't_ work on other vampires," Mike says fiercely.

"But if Lint's do," William continues, "it makes things tricky for us."

"So you think I'll be immune to Lint's powers," Ryan says slowly, "since I was immune to vampire powers as a human."

William smiles proudly. "That is what we're hoping, yes."

"You mean to take him straight to Lint," Brendon accuses.

"Not without significant preparation," William promises.

"Looks like your honeymoon is over, kids," Mike says and smiles viciously.

Mike, Brendon reflects, is a bastard sometimes.

"First and foremost, I'm sorry to say," William goes on as if Mike hasn't spoken, "will be teaching you to effectively kill other vampires. It's distasteful, but imperative that you're able to protect yourself from others of our kind."

Ryan nods, looking a little overwhelmed.

"I won't put you into danger unprepared," William promises. "We Dandies don't give up our own easily." He turns his head to include Brendon in the promise. Brendon tightens his jaw and nods.

***

Brendon doesn't feel any better for knowing William's plans for Ryan. In fact, the unease in the pit of his stomach only grows.

"You're worrying too much," Ryan says, but Brendon can hear nervousness underneath his flippant assurances.

Tonight they've pushed the furniture in the lobby to the side for Ryan's lessons.

Tom is watching them from the stairs, sketchpad on his knees. He's capable, but not particularly fond of fighting. Brendon's good and enthusiastic, but to teach Ryan they've called on the best at killing vampires that they have.

"You already know the basics," Christopher says. Chris is soft spoken and stand shorter than Ryan, with big innocent looking eyes and hair falling into his face. He looks like he could be a poet, and no one would ever guess that even as a human, he was deadly. Pete wasn't the first hunter the Dandies turned for their own amusement. In his time, Chris was a hunter with a reputation that Pete and his band are only beginning to rival. Turning him had been a major victory for Mike.

"Stake to the heart, beheading, fire," Chris goes on. "It's getting close enough to do any of that we have to work on. You're young, so pretty much everyone is going to be stronger and faster than you." His arm blurs and suddenly Ryan falls back a step, the tip of a stake pressed to his chest. Brendon very carefully doesn't move. "You're dead," Chris says. "See what I mean?" Ryan nods. "Good. Then here's what you do."

The lesson lasts most of the night. Brendon and Tom go out briefly to bring back meals that wait glassy eyed against the wall for Chris and Ryan to finish. Chris is still 'killing' Ryan almost every time, but there's definite improvement. Especially considering Ryan's admission that he'd never even thrown a punch when he was human, not really.

"You're doing fine," Chris says when they've eaten. "I'm teaching you a lot of the techniques that hunters use in hand-to-hand situations. It works for them, and it will work for you. If I could get you some of that gadgets Pete uses, I'd do it." He gives Ryan a sidelong glance. "Maybe you could ask him."

Ryan lowers his eyes. "I don't think Pete's feeling generous towards me anymore."

Chris shrugs. "Too bad. That singer of his is pretty brilliant at them. I would have killed for a few of those when I was hunting vampires." He smiles, showing his teeth, and Brendon is reminded why Chris makes him uncomfortable sometimes.

"See?" Ryan says when they're back in Brendon's room. "It's going to be okay." His smile doesn't reach his eyes.

"Sure," Brendon says, and kisses him.

***

Brendon slams his prey against a brick wall so hard dust drifts down and settles onto his hat and coat, his meal's hair. The meal moans in pain, barely conscious. Brendon takes a second to lean back and punch it across the face before leaning in and biting its throat. He takes no pleasure from it.

He lets the body drop to the ground in a heap and looks over at Tom. He's leaning against a lamp post with his arms crossed.

"Feel better?" he asks dryly.

"No," Brendon admits.

"You can't hover forever," Tom says. He leaves the "and you shouldn't" unspoken, but Brendon hears it anyway.

"I know that," Brendon says. That doesn't make him feel better either.

Earlier in the night they'd all been lounging in the lobby, Ryan sprawled with his head on Brendon's thigh and his leg hooked over the arm of the couch. They'd been laughing at a story of Andrew's when William had appeared on the steps. He didn't raise his voice, but he never had to. Everyone quieted when he spoke.

"Ryan," he said with a graceful wave of his fingers. "My rooms, please." Ryan stood and Brendon moved to stand too. "Ryan," William said again, and his meaning was clear: only Ryan was invited. Brendon was to stay exactly where he was, and there was no way to complain without diminishing Ryan's status in front of the others. So Brendon made a show of shrugging and settling back against the couch, pretending not to watch Ryan and William disappear up the stairs, or William's hand on the small of Ryan's back.

When Tom had suggested a meal, Brendon agreed eagerly.

Brendon wipes blood from his mouth with the heel of his hand, not bothering with his handkerchief.

"You're funny," Tom says. "As long as I've known you, William has been the only one who can rile you up like this. Now there's Ryan, and the two of you ... you must know you're unusual. Especially at this stage."

Brendon thinks Tom was a much more pleasant companion when he didn't talk so much.

"You didn't see William and I, the first few years," Brendon shrugs.

But things were different then, when it was just him and William and Mike, and the Dandies hadn't truly been born yet, and they were just young upstarts staging a coup for the power of this city.

Or maybe it's only him that's different now. Brendon doesn't know. All he knows is that he hates knowing that Ryan and William are alone together.

"Have you had enough?" Tom asks.

"Yes," Brendon says, then sees the flash of a skirt, hears the click of high heels across the street. "No, wait," he says. "One more."

***

Ryan doesn't return to Brendon's rooms until half an hour before dawn. Brendon already has all the curtains drawn and has undressed for bed.

He will not admit, under pain of staking, that he was worried Ryan might not come back at all; might choose to stay in William's rooms, or his own. He wasn't worried, so he's not relieved when he hears the door open, or when Ryan crawls through the curtains.

"Remind me not to become a vampire politician," Ryan says. "It's boring." He tucks himself into Brendon's side and sighs. "Did you do something fun tonight?"

Brendon traces his hand up Ryan's side, across his shoulder, and up the side of his neck. He tilts Ryan's chin up with his thumb, letting his gaze linger on his throat, where there used to be a pulse.

"Not yet," Brendon says. He licks Ryan's bottom lip, then the top one, then the bottom again before pressing their mouths together and licking his way to the inside of Ryan's mouth.

"But I'm about to."

***

Brendon's fingers crash against the keys of the grand piano. His unslicked hair falls into his eyes, blocking his sight from anything but the keys in front of him. He can hear of Dandies passing through the lobby as quickly and quietly as they can, wary of disturbing him. He ignores them.

They should be wary. Tonight is the first night of what they've taken to calling The Summit. William, Mike, and Ryan, along with Travis and his chosen members left almost immediately after sundown to meet with Lint after weeks of preparation on Ryan's part and heavy fighting on the part of the rest of the Dandies and Hoods.

They've been gone for hours and they'll be gone for hours more, and there is absolutely nothing Brendon can do besides wait for them to return. Brendon really, really despises waiting.

He tries to lose himself in the music, the pounding chords and discordant notes that are all his fingers can coax from the instrument right now, but it's hopeless. His thoughts are halfway across the city, at the summit, and he's not even allowed to go out and commit violence on hunters or other vampires tonight. Nothing must disturb the fragile truce that's holding while the summit takes place.

The mood he's in, Brendon could burn this entire city to the ground without a single shred of remorse as long as he had Ryan at the end of it. But no, William has expressly forbidden his action, and so he takes it out on the piano in front of him and should anyone be foolish enough to cross him tonight, well.

He just plays and plays until a hand on his shoulder startles his fingers off of the keys. He whirls, snarl in place, ready to tear whoever it is apart, but stops when he sees that it's William.

"That was an interesting piece, Brendon," William says as if Brendon hadn't come this close to ripping out his throat. "One of your own?"

There, a few feet behind William, is Ryan in his best clothing and hat, his face painted with strong black lines as he's taken to doing lately, his expression blank.

Brendon forces his posture to casualness and his expression to something lazy and unconcerned. "Yes," he says. "How did it go?"

"Fine," William says with a wave of his hand. He unhooks his cape and lets it fall to the floor. "Lint's demands are ridiculous of course, but I'm sure we can make him see reason in time. Don't you agree, Ryan?" Ryan inclines his head, but says nothing.

William reaches out and brushes the hair from Brendon's forehead, drags his nails lightly over the back of Brendon's skull. Brendon finds himself leaning into the touch, despite his lingering resentment.

"Come, Brendon," William says, his hand still on Brendon's head. "It's nearly dawn."

Brendon nods and stands. He follows William up the stairs, Ryan at his side. He brushes a finger across Ryan's wrist and the contact steadies him. Ryan shifts closer so their shoulders brush as they walk.

William leads them into his suite, straight through the sitting room and into his bedroom. He turns around and looks at them for a moment, then smiles.

"You two are pretty as a picture. I should have Tom sketch it."

He takes Brendon's wrist and pulls him to the side of the bed. He unbuttons Brendon's vest and shirt, throwing them carelessly behind him, then arranges Brendon on the bed on his side, facing William. Ryan gets the same treatment, and William poses him behind Brendon, chest curved around Brendon's back, one arm in front of his chest.

William fusses for another minute, then steps back to view his handiwork. His eyes darken with lust. "Exquisite," he says, voice low. "Well?"

Brendon doesn't need to be told twice. He tips his head back and licks a stripe up Ryan's neck, then sucks hard. Ryan moans and his hand moves to Brendon's chest, pressing them closer together. Brendon sucks long past the point of bruising for a human before he stops and tilts his head farther back, inviting Ryan to kiss him. Ryan does so enthusiastically, his tongue wasting no time finding the inside of Brendon's mouth. His cock is hard against Brendon's ass, and Brendon presses back against it, causing Ryan to break the kiss and pant, forgetting in that moment that he doesn't need the air.

He bends down to graze his teeth over the joint of Brendon's neck and shoulder. It's Brendon's turn to moan now, and his hips thrust back into Ryan and forward into empty air. He opens his eyes and there's William, watching them. He's managed to shed all of his clothing. He smiles darkly at Brendon and Brendon can't help but smile back, because he has Ryan behind him and William in front of him and William is beautiful and always has been.

Ryan's hand moves to the button of Brendon's pants and Brendon's eyes drift shut again. The next thing he knows there are three hands undoing his pants and pulling them down, and the bed dips with William's weight as he climbs on. Ryan raises his head and William leans over Brendon to kiss him. Both of their hands are on Brendon's cock and he can only groan and thrust into their hands at the sight.

Brendon whimpers when William takes their hands away and pulls away from Ryan's mouth.

"Sit up," William murmurs and Brendon does, reluctantly pulling away from Ryan to let William crawl between them and settle his back against the pillows. He arches an eyebrow at Brendon and Brendon knows this, knows exactly what to do.

He leans down and licks along one of William's ribs, upwards to brush against his nipple, then moves steadily downwards, licking, sucking, biting sometimes, but never to break the skin - William doesn't allow it. Ryan follows Brendon's lead, making sure William's other side does not go without attention. They meet over William's cock and Brendon licks over the head of William's cock and Ryan's bottom lip. On his second pass Ryan's tongue is there to meet his.

"Yes, that's it," William says. One hand tangles in Brendon's hair, pulling hard and making Brendon's hips buck against the mattress. William's other hand is giving Ryan similar treatment.

Brendon's senses narrow to William's cock and Ryan's mouth. The sun could rise and all of Fall Out Boy could tramp through the room and Brendon would neither notice nor care. William is getting close, Brendon can tell, he remembers this, but William clutches his hair tighter and pulls him off, tugs him until he's on his hands and knees, Ryan in front of him.

Ryan's make up is hopelessly smudged and his pupils are blown wide. He's lost his pants somewhere along the way. Brendon doesn't have a chance to say or do anything before William sinks into his body in one thrust with no preparation and Brendon cries out, his back arching. William fucks him hard and Ryan watches intently and Brendon can only moan and babble nonsense.

William stops and Brendon is about to protest, but he leans back, still inside Brendon and pulls Brendon with him so that he's in William's lap, back against his chest. William holds him there, keeps him from moving with one hand and beckons Ryan closer with the other. Ryan is across the bed in no time and he plasters himself along Brendon's front. Brendon shouts as the touch of Ryan's cock to his and Ryan swallows it in a hard kiss, then bites at his lips. Brendon bites right back. He's free to break Ryan's skin all he wants and suck at the blood that wells up between their lips.

William thrusts up hard into Brendon and resumes fucking him in earnest. It's almost too much sensation. Brendon's hands find Ryan's hips and hold Ryan tight against him. He lets his head fall back. He's close. He's very close. William's teeth graze the side of his neck, not biting but it's enough. Brendon comes.

When he's aware again, William is still fucking him, leaning over his shoulder and kissing Ryan's blood smeared mouth. Brendon growls and moves one hand to fist Ryan's cock. Ryan comes against Brendon's stomach immediately, his mouth stilling against William's.

After that, it only takes half a dozen more thrusts before William tightens his hand on Brendon and comes as well.

Brendon collapses forward onto Ryan and they both fall backwards on the bed. William makes a smug, amused sound above them and Brendon doesn't care. He licks the rest of the dried blood from Ryan's mouth and kisses him.

He falls asleep like that, just as he feels the sun rise.

***

The next night they dress quickly in Brendon's room. They slept later than normal and now it's almost time for Ryan to leave to meet Lint. Ryan is silent, his face shuttered, and now that Brendon thinks about it, he was unusually quiet last night as well.

Brendon wants to ask, but Tom was right. He can't keep hovering. It might be nothing, and if not, Ryan will come to him. Hopefully. Instead, he comes up behind Ryan as he's finishing painting face, Ryan's hat in his hand. He says nothing, just puts the hat on him, adjusts it until it's settled at the perfect angle.

Ryan leans back into Brendon briefly before turning, running his nose up Brendon's neck, his cheek, until his mouth is at Brendon's ear.

"He will try and take me from you," Ryan whispers so softly Brendon's not even sure he heard correctly.

Then he brushes past Brendon and is out the door, leaving Brendon still and shocked.

***

It takes three nights for Brendon to escape the other watchful Dandies. It only makes Brendon more sure that Ryan is right.

He slips away from Andrew while they're hunting and makes his way to the abandoned office building where the summit's being held. He can't get any closer than a block away without alerting the Punks standing guard to his presence. He settles behind a dumpster and waits.

He'd been so sure William's plans for Ryan ended in the advantage Ryan could give him over Lint. He should have known better. William's plans are rarely so simple.

The hours creep towards dawn and Brendon waits, his mind too clouded to even fidget. He hears the guards stop their conversation and perks up. Not long after he hears three sets of footsteps heading his way. He stays behind the dumpster, trusting the trash to mask his scent. He waits until the footsteps pass, then follows as slowly and carefully as he can. If William or Mike figures out he's here, he's screwed.

He can hear the murmur of voices - mostly William's - up ahead, but not what they're saying. But he can see. He can see how Ryan is placed between William and Mike. How Williams walks so closely to him, reaching out often to touch Ryan's arm, the small of his back, his hair. It takes everything Brendon has not to growl at the casual possession William's displaying. As if it goes without saying that Ryan will be his. As if Brendon is just going to give Ryan up without a fight.

There was a time when Brendon would have given William everything, no questions asked. That time has passed.

But as he watches Ryan lean into William's touch, he has a sudden attack of doubt. He doesn't usually have doubts, and he doesn't like it. What if Ryan wants to go to William? William is powerful and no one knows better how attractive that is to vampires better than Brendon.

He slows and lets William, Ryan, and Mike walk out of sight. He takes the long way back to the hotel, not even bothering to hunt.

There's no sign of Ryan in his rooms when he returns and Brendon stays awake until the sun forces his eyes shut, waiting, even though he knows exactly where Ryan is.

He wakes when the sun sets and allows himself ten minutes to lay still and imagine not getting out of bed at all that night. Then he shoves the curtains open and gets up. He will not allow William the satisfaction of knowing he's affected Brendon. He will not allow the other Dandies to see him vulnerable.

He dresses like he's going into battle in his most flamboyant tie and favorite coat. That's when he finds the note. He recognizes the feel of the heavy paper in his coat pocket. He pulls it out and unfolds it, knowing what he'll find. In the middle of the page in his own handwriting are the words _i've found the cure to growing older_.

But it isn't exactly the same as when Brendon slipped it into Ryan's pocket at the club months ago. Beneath Brendon's words there's a line written in Ryan's spiky scrawl. Brendon smiles wide and dangerous when he reads it.

_and you're the only place that feels like home_.

***

Brendon thinks of and discards a hundred plans over the next two nights while he sits at the piano and plays. Tom tries to approach him late in the first night, but Brendon waves him off, and the other Dandies stay away after that.

He cannot challenge William directly. That would only lead to death and embarrassment. It needs to be something more subtle. Brendon is very bad at subtle.

So maybe, he thinks sometimes during the second night, it shouldn't be subtle. Maybe it should be something so spectacularly unsubtle that no one will suspect anything.

The only problem is that he'll need help. And he really doesn't want to ask for it.

The next night he's out of bed as soon as the sun sets and out of the hotel before any other Dandies have stirred. He's dressed in Ryan's old jeans and an undershirt; for once he doesn't want to stand out.

Fall Out Boy's warehouse is in a truly seedy part of town. Brendon knocks on their door barely an hour after sunset. He holds himself ready when he hears footsteps on the stairs. Pete is just as likely to kill him as listen to him, and getting killed is not part of the plan.

"What do you want," Pete snarls as he opens the door.

"Just to talk, promise," Brendon says, holding his hands up in front of him.

"We have nothing to talk about," Pete says and attempts to slam the door. Brendon stops it with his foot.

"I need your help," he says.

"_You_ need my help?"

"That's what I said," Brendon scowls. Trust Pete to make this as difficult as possible.

"What could you possibly need my help with?"

"Stop trying to close the door in my face and I'll tell you."

Pete pauses. He opens the door, but doesn't move from the doorway. He crosses his arms over his chest. "Well?"

"Ryan and I want to leave the Dandies."

"What?"

"We want to leave the Dandies. And I don't want to keep repeating myself."

"Why would you want to leave?" Pete asks.

"Need a change of scene," Brendon says breezily. Pete narrows his eyes but Brendon doesn't elaborate. It's none of Pete goddamn business.

"So why don't you just go?"

"William doesn't just let things go when he considers them his," Brendon says with a hard look at Pete. "As you well know." Pete clenches his jaw but nods. "So you'll help?" Brendon asks.

"I didn't say that. What's in it for me?"

Brendon rolls his eyes. "Besides the satisfaction of knowing you've helped dupe William out of two of his favorite minions?"

"Yeah. Besides that."

Brendon smiles. He doubts Pete will able to resist this. "How about a chance at William, Travis, and Lint, all at the same time?"

Pete's eyebrows raise until they're practically in his hood. "Are you shitting me?"

Brendon puts on his most innocent face. "Would I do that?"

"Yes."

"True," Brendon sighs. "But I'm serious. You get a shot at the entire vampire power structure of the city, Ryan and I get out unscathed, and we never bother each other again."

Pete stares at Brendon. Brendon stares back.

"I don't know," Pete says. Brendon wants to shake him.

"Let me talk to Patrick," he says.

"What? No!"

Brendon rolls his eyes again. Pete is infuriating. He has no idea why William wants to keep him. "I'm not going to hurt him, he's part of my plan. I just want to talk to someone with more sense than you."

Pete scowls, but turns and gestures for Brendon to follow. Brendon's never actually been inside before. It looks exactly like a place in which he'd expect a band of teenage boy vampire hunters to live. He's careful not to smirk where Pete can see him.

Patrick and the other two are waiting when they downstairs. The guitarist has a crossbow trained on him, and the drummer is holding a sword.

"This is all very unnecessary, you know," Brendon says mildly.

Pete stands next to Patrick. "If you touch him, I'll kill you," he says. "If you try any mind tricks on him, I'll kill you."

"Whatever," Brendon says. Then he explains - again - what he wants and what they get out of it. When he's finished, Patrick cocks his head to the side, considering. He's wearing a turtleneck and a high collared jacket, but Brendon can see scar tissue peeking above the edges. He inhales deeply and catches scents he'll never be able to forget.

"I killed them, you know," he says.

"What?" Patrick says.

"That vampires that did that to you. Three female Punks. I killed them."

"Why?"

"They tried to hurt Ryan."

Patrick's eyes widen and he looks at Brendon for a long time.

"I think we should do it," he says finally. Pete looks away.

"Are you sure?" the drummer asks.

"No," Patrick says, "but we won't get another opportunity like this. I say we take it."

"When would we go?" the guitarist asks.

"Tomorrow night" Brendon says.

"That's - " Pete says.

"We can't waste any time," Brendon interrupts. "Surprise will be our best advantage."

"What do you have in mind?" Patrick asks.

Brendon flashes him a grin. "We're going to start another riot."

***

Brendon pulls Andrew aside the next night after William, Mike, and Ryan have left.

"When I was out last night, I heard some things," he says seriously. "About Pete. I heard he's going to try and crash the summit."

"Are you sure?" Andrew asks.

"No. Rumor only, but it's troubling."

Andrew nods. "We can't let anything disrupt the summit. What should we do?"

Inside, Brendon is crowing in victory, but he doesn't let it show. He pretends to think about it. "You should take the gang to the summit. Stay hidden and keep watch, and if anything happens, go in. I'll see if I can find Pete. If he's on his way to the summit, I'll try and stop him."

"Shouldn't you have some back-up? It's Pete."

Brendon shakes his head. "It's more important to protect William. I don't trust the Punks if things go sour."

"Definitely not," Andrew agrees. "Okay. I'll take everyone now. Hopefully I'll just see you back here before dawn."

_Hopefully you won't_, Brendon thinks, but he clasps Andrew's hand and says, "Let's hope."

He leaves while Andrew is gathering everyone. He ducks into an alley three blocks from the hotel, slips through a basement window and picks up the bag he stashed there last night. The stolen messenger back contains a few wallets he snitched, a few non-Dandy changes of clothing for both him and Ryan, and most importantly, Ryan's journal and notebook. There won't be time to go back to the hotel if his plan works. If it works, they'll have left the hotel for the last night. If it doesn't work ... well, nothing will matter, then.

He meets Fall Out Boy at the club where he first saw Ryan. There's no show tonight. The doors are locked and the lights are dark. Pete and his boys are already there, armed to the teeth and looking grim and determined.

"Are you ready to do this?" Brendon asks.

"Of course," Pete says and raises his eyebrows. "Are you?"

"Never been more ready," Brendon says with a toothy, dangerous grin.

He loads himself up with stakes, including one in a spring-loaded wrist holster from Patrick. Brendon is so taking that with him. Joe gives him a crossbow looking like he can't believe he's giving weapons to a vampire. Brendon could tear out his throat and make him like it without the aid of a crossbow, but he has manners enough not to say so.

Brendon leads them through the city at a steady pace. The rest of the Dandies must be in position before they show.

They stop a quarter mile from the office building.

"Four blocks north, then turn right. You can't miss it. I'll be behind you," Brendon says.

"How do we know you won't just leave us to be slaughtered?" Andy asks.

"I'm not leaving here without Ryan. Be sure of that."

"Let's go guys," Patrick says. As soon as they start walking, Brendon scales a fire escape and trails them from the rooftops.

There are only two Punk guards at the doors to the building, but if Brendon's judged Lint correctly, it won't stay that way for long.

The hunters have stopped, hidden from the guards, assessing the situation. Brendon can hear whispered conversation, but no words. He waits for them to make their move. They keep talking. He fidgets. _Fuck this_, he thinks. They don't have all night. He creeps closer to the building, lifts his crossbow, and shoots one of the guards straight through the heart.

"Shit!" he hears from below him as Fall Out Boy scrambles for their weapons and into action. The guard left standing looks comically shocked before he hears the sound of Pete and his band, then turns to meet their charge. By the time Pete attacks him, stake first, there are ten more Punks lined up between the hunters and the door. Brendon smiles and waits for it.

The Dandies, led by Andrew, saunter up to the scene. The hunters are surrounded now, and they huddle backs to each other and weapons raised. There is a tense and charged silence. Brendon is bored with it, so he fits another bolt to his crossbow, takes very careful aim, and fires. The bolt hits Andrew just to the right of his heart and he howls, stumbling to his knees. Adam shouts and throws himself at Andy, who in a very impressive move, uses Adam's own momentum to throw him into the waiting line of Punks.

All hell breaks loose.

The surrounding Punks fall on Adam and a handful of Dandies move to help him. The Punks fight back against both Dandies and hunters and soon it's a free-for-all, every gang for itself. Pete's fighting for the door, intent on reaching William and the rest of the hunters are hard pressed to keep up. Brendon fires a few bolts indiscriminately into the crowd.

When he runs out of ammo he discards the crossbow, slides down a convenient drainpipe and sprints towards the fight.

"Brendon!" Danny cries when he reaches the outskirts. Brendon waves to him and dives into the fray. He loses his hat with the first punch and then it's just the shouts and fists and blood as he fights his way towards Pete, the door, and Ryan.

He's nearly there, ten feet away from Pete and struggling with a particularly large and vicious Punk when the door flies open and William, Travis, and Lint are there, looking out at the brawl with anger and dismay. A few of the vampires near them stop fighting and are taken down quickly by the hunters for their stupidity. Lint growls something at William then disappears into the mass.

William's expression is stormy. Brendon barely remembers the last time he's seen William this angry, and he's glad he won't be returning to the hotel tonight.

Go, he sees William say, and Mike moves from behind him and into the fight; to round up the Dandies or to help them, Brendon doesn't know. The Punk Brendon is fighting lands a punch to his face then, and by the time Brendon stakes him and can start paying attention again, Pete and William are facing off.

Perfect.

Now he just needs to find Ryan. He's not behind William, but he can't have gone far. There, just beyond Joe, ducking a punch from a young Hood.

Brendon ducks around vampires, not bothering to engage until he reaches Ryan and shoves a stake through the Hood's back and into his heart.

Ryan looks down at the Hood, then up at Brendon and smiles brilliantly. Then he launches himself at Brendon, kisses him deep and hard, his tongue in Brendon's mouth and licking at the blood there. Brendon kisses back just as hard.

After several seconds Ryan pulls away. "Let's go," he says. Brendon nods.

They slip through the fight hand-in-hand and completely unnoticed, and turn down an alley.

"I thought you might come this way," Tom says, straightening from his slump against a wall. Brendon stills.

"Pre-cognition is not one of your talents," he says, though that's really not the point.

"You're really going to do this then?" Tom asks, ignoring Brendon's statement.

Brendon nods defiantly. Tom could ruin this plan right here right now. He's never been anything but unwaveringly loyal to William. Well, neither had Brendon, before. And he really doesn't want to kill Tom. But he will.

"It's alright, Brendon," Ryan says. Ryan is completely relaxed beside him, and he speaks with the sure tone Brendon has come to associate with his Insight. "Tom," Ryan says, and nothing more. Tom looks at Brendon for a few more moments, unreadable.

"Go," he says, finally. "I won't say anything."

Before Brendon can even say thank you, Tom steps back into the shadows and is gone.

Ryan drapes his arm around Brendon's shoulder and nips at his ear. "That was a little more dramatic than I was expecting," he says softly.

Brendon laughs. "I like to make a scene."

"I know."

Brendon tugs at Ryan's hair until he can see Ryan's eyes. "Ready?"

"Always," Ryan says.

They run.


End file.
